


Shed Your Yellow, Take My Hand

by FranklyMrShankly



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Blood Play, Dubious Consent (Vampire), Frerard, Graphic Sex, Graphic Violence, It's Rated Mature.... be sensible, M/M, Triggering Situations, pain kinks, some non-con, vampire!Gerard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-03-23 07:29:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 42,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3759712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FranklyMrShankly/pseuds/FranklyMrShankly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank has never been lost in his life. He knows this city like the back of his hand and could trace the routes he uses everyday like one of his tattoos. Being a bike messenger in NYC is rough work, though, and when he takes a spill in front of the Guggenheim one night, he realizes that there is more hidden in plain sight than down any dark alley way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. As Razor Sharp White Teeth Rip Out Our Necks... I Saw You There.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I needed to tell.  
> So I am.  
> Enjoy it.  
> Or don't. I'm not your father.

“Baby, you can’t let yourself go so long without eating,” Gerard’s mother said soothingly.  She worried for her son, and of course he understood, but things had changed. He didn’t need to be soothed or babied anymore.

He remembered when he was a kid. Mama would smile and ruffle his hair and cut him a giant helping of lasagna or spoon generous portions of soup or stew into his bowl. He was unmistakably chubby and adorable in his mother’s eyes. “What?” she would ask incredulously when her husband gave her that look. That look that told her she was spoiling Gerard. “He’s a growing boy and he needs to eat.” She would say these words while patting Gerard’s hand or dolling out even more insane amounts of food onto his baby brother, Michael’s, plate.  Mikey, however, did not seem to suffer from Gerard’s unfortunate metabolism.

Gerard shook those pleasant memories away as he reached for his mother’s outstretched arm and shoved it back away from him. “Mom. You have to stop feeding me. I can’t.” Gone were the days that her meatloaf would satiate him. No more steak or casserole or pizza. Gerard had grown into a man with specific appetites and his mother could no longer feed him without doing significant harm to herself.

Gerard had changed since childhood. In particular his second summer back from university he had changed a great deal. He was noticeably slim and paler and no matter how much food his mother put on his plate or the number of times she’d begged him to see a doctor, nothing helped. She chalked it up to him growing into his looks, as he was quite a bit more conventionally handsome.

When his mother had first found him outside of their house late one night, his lips attached to the throat of their neighbor, she’d thought he’d been getting lucky. Unthinking, she pulled him off of her with a stern, “Gerard Arthur Way, this is not how I raised you.”  Her hand was on his shoulder and she flipped her son around to given him a talking to. She was expecting him to be bashful or even angry. What she was met with was the distorted face of her son, snarling at her with a mouth stained by blood that looked almost black in the moonlight.

That was the worst night of her life. Her son had died and she never knew. Her son had died and then continued on in her home as though he had never changed. He hid his problems, his pains, his needs. And to make matters worse, he’d taken to assaulting people to fill those needs since he no longer felt safe to ask his mother. She watched with wide eyes as her son told the neighbor girl to forget about him. As he looked into her eyes and she’d mindlessly agreed that they’d never met. Gerard, who? Oh the neighbor’s son, away at college? Yeah. She hadn’t run into him yet.

Donna Way’s oldest son… was a monster. A vampire straight out of a novel or a movie. Undead. Deadly. Supernatural. But he was still Gerard Arthur Way. Still her baby. Still her good boy. And from that point on, once a week or more, she gave him her wrist. To save him from hunger and the potential to hurt people. So she’d forbidden him from feeding on strangers. If Gerard was hungry, he’d just have to take her vein. It was a mother’s job to nourish her son, was it not?

But Gerard couldn’t anymore. These last few months, he’d been feeding from her less and less. Sometimes he would let himself grow weak, other times, he’d sneakily substitute her blood for that of a stranger. He didn’t feel bad for the strangers. People were less people to him anymore. He could no longer connect with them on any level. His emotions were different, his body was different… On an evolutionary scale, he wasn’t even Homo sapiens anymore.  He felt bad for his mother, though. She was getting older and weaker. Taking her blood for the last five years had made her anemic and weak. She had clotting problems and a terrible immune system. She passed it off as age and health, but Gerard knew better. She’d been feeding a parasite for years. She wouldn’t be able to do it any longer.

The day that Gerard refused her wrist for the last time, he looked up into her sad eyes. “I am what I am, mom. I can’t change it. You can’t feed me anymore, and to be honest, I feel better when I hunt. I take more and can do it without hurting the person. It’s… it’s healthier for me. And you.”

“What about your _soul_ , Gerard? You can’t continue to hurt people. Baby, God is always watching.”

With tears for his mother in his eyes, Gerard replied. “I’m already dead, mom. I don’t think I have a soul, and I’m pretty sure there isn’t any God. Where was this in the Bible? Where were vampires in Sunday School? Catechism?  It’s all just… stories, Ma.”

That was probably what hurt Donna the most; not the end of Gerard’s life or his need for blood, it was the damnation of his soul, that she was sure still existed.

 

 


	2. They Can Pump This Venom. Gaping Hole.

                Ten years later, Gerard was living in New York, using his masters in Art History to curate at the Guggenheim.  He loved the city, the absolute cliché of it all; a vampire living and working around all these citizens. He was packed like a sardine into the can that was the city that never sleeps. And that provided him with a veritable all you can eat buffet. He could live on a sip here and there for as long as he wanted; and when his darker nature took over and he drained one or two dry… well. There were plenty of places you could dispose of an exsanguinated body here.

                There was also a string of “lovers” Gerard found and found useful. There was always a beautiful woman entranced with any functioning member of the art world that wasn’t gay. He would meet them at fundraisers and parties and gallery openings. They would flirt, drink, and he would invite them to his apartment to look at his own sketches. The women would compliment his technique and either blush at or get turned on by his subject matter; he drew men and women, naked and contorting in agony or pleasure, veins bulging, eyes wide… sometimes they were bloody. The women found him provocative and inspired. A daring artist with a stable, well-paying job. A well off play-boy who liked things rough in the bedroom and avoided attachments. Commitment wasn’t in the heart of artists, they would reason. He was transient and free-spirited. They ate it up.

                Rumors floated around about his voracious sexual appetite; his lovers were often spotted with exaggerated hickeys and love bites. Every time he saw one for himself he had to laugh at the way the woman would blush shyly and smile at him, as though they shared a secret. Of course there was a secret, but he wasn’t sharing it with anyone. He’d never actually _fucked_ any of these women. He discovered long ago that if he was well fed, he could influence people’s thoughts and memories. Minds were literally his for the molding. He’d never done anything extreme like convince a person that they could fly, but it was really a simple matter to feed from a woman at his home, leave a few “love bites” and fill their head with excuses.

“We made love tonight. It got a little rough, a little kinky, maybe, but it was mind blowing. You came harder than you have in years and don’t mind the nips and bruises. You’re satisfied, but you’re not going to cling. You’re going to attempt discretion, but not deny that we had sex or that you’re happy when you’re asked directly. You’re happy. You’re fine. And you’re going to wait until I call you.”

Then he would show them out, maybe walk them to their cars or cabs, kiss their cheeks and smile before bidding them goodnight.

There was no reason for anyone to know that the lovers he _did_ take were almost always men, and they almost always died. There was something so carnal about the way he felt when he was inside of a man. Something raw and pure and real. Even if he didn’t intend to, when he was fucking someone, he bit. When he lost his virginity after he first moved to the city, it was to a man that Gerard had actually courted. They’d gone on dates and shared meals and late night phone calls. Gerard was fairly certain he was actually in love with Terry, which made him feel conflicted about the whole “vampire” thing. Like… was he really worth loving? How could he love this man and not tell him that he didn’t even think he was human anymore?

The answer game for Gerard the night before he was slated to meet Terry’s parents, who were coming in from Georgia and staying with his boyfriend for a few days. They’d spent all day cleaning and grocery shopping and making plans for taking the elderly couple around the city. The day ended with a bottle of cheap red wine and Gerard and Terry making out on the couch. Terry had been willing to go slow, because Gerard had been a virgin, but that night was fueled by alcohol and excitement and happiness. It was time, Gerard decided. As he leaned over his boyfriend’s form, Gerard marveled at the mewling noises coming from the other man’s mouth. There was a sort of power there, and Gerard thrust harder, making Terry cry out in pleasure and a little pain. The sound hit Gerard’s ears and he saw red, going harder and faster and more mercilessly than Terry would have thought him capable. He didn’t remember when he leaned down and put his head against Terry’s artery or when he bit; he didn’t remember when Terry stopped screaming and jerking.

What surprised him the most is that when he came to, he wasn’t upset. He expected to feel loss and guilt because he had convinced himself that he loved Terry; there was nothing. There was maybe some anger, though. He was going to be linked to this murder. He and Terry were public, they’d video chatted with his parents, they’d been seen everywhere together. He couldn’t be a suspect.

Gerard took the condom off and put it in a plastic bag in his pocket before finding some Lysol wipes and rubber gloves getting to work wiping down fingerprints. His prints wouldn’t raise suspicions, but he had to think that if a stranger came in a raped his boyfriend before murdering him, the stranger would want to erase evidence. Gerard paid special attention to Terry then, using the wipes dipped in water and bleach to carefully clean his lover’s backside and asshole, there could be no DNA left… Gerard wasn’t even sure if he _had_ human DNA. That reminded him of the kissing and biting Gerard had done, so he poured bleach directly on Terry’s neck and shoulders, scrubbing it furiously with the cloths. It wouldn’t be enough, would it?

With a vague expression of fascination, Gerard took a paring knife from the block and carved out all of the flesh he’d fed from, digging in and scooping out muscle, tendon, and blood vessel as well. He dug down to the bone and in the diameter of a grapefruit, just to be safe. In his gloved hand, Gerard carried the mess to the sink and stuffed it into the garbage disposal, adding a healthy dose of bleach, switching the device on as he poured. It was a macabre smoothie in the drains, and only the smell of bleach made it unappetizing.

When he was finished, Gerard left, careful not to lock the door; a rapist wouldn’t have keys.  He slept in the next morning and woke with a smile. Terry’s parents would be in by around eleven, he would have to show up to meet them at Terry’s as expected. On his way up from the subway, he stopped and bought gardenias for Terry’s mother and an “I <3 NY” shirt for his father. Gerard was all smiles when he walked up the steps and saw them both knocking at Terry’s door.

“You must be Gerard!” his mother gushed and hugged him when Gerard presented the gifts. “You’re even handsomer than you looked in those videos, darling!” Gerard smiled and laughed before regarding her husband. “Is he not answering?”

“No. He isn’t, the lazy asshole. Been knocking for ten minutes. He’s inside. I hear his cellphone. Must be asleep,” his dad answered. With a flourish, Gerard reached up into the lampshade by Terry’s door.

“Good thing I know where the hide-a-key is, huh?” He laughed and unlocked the door, pushing it open and gesturing for Terry’s parents to go first. Gerard tried to match the shrill volume of Terry’s mother’s scream, but all he managed was a yelp, followed by some crying and falling onto his knees.

The scene looked more vivid in the daylight. Gerard wished he could paint it instead of crawling to the couch in fake tears, screaming “Oh my God!” and “Why?!”

Eventually he did draw it, a year later. He put it on canvas too and it sold at a show. The light had been glorious and illuminated the raw, gaping hole at Terry’s throat.

He’d named the thing Awakening. He was commissioned to do a series.

Terry’s death; Gerard’s awakening… it had paid for his apartment.  

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. I'll keep writing it if you like it. I think I might make the next chapter about Frank.


	3. Fill Our Hearts With Thoughts of Endless Night Time Sky?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gerard contemplates killing the messenger.

It was raining. Of course it was. Frank was late for his last delivery of the night because some asshole at the office he was picking it from up decided to lose the damn thing and insist that Frank wait because the package was _that_ important.

“If it’s important, maybe you should have kept your eyes on the damn thing. C’mon, man. I’m on a schedule,” Frank whined. When the parcel, and payment, was placed in Frank’s capable hands, he jetted off to the elevator on his bike, scaring the shit out of the suits still in the office at this hour.

Outside he noticed it was getting dark, and not just because of the sun beginning to go down, there were thick rain clouds over the city. Within moments, the rain became torrential. The parcel was safe inside of his waterproof back pack and safe, but the flimsy gloves on his hands weren’t keeping his fingers safe from the stinging cold rain.

\---

Gerard was pacing in the back receiving area of the Guggenheim, there was a package due about fifteen minutes ago and he needed to sign for it before he could go. Fucking bike messengers, it was like they ran on a completely different clock than the rest of the world. He needed these release forms like yesterday if he was going to open the exhibit on time. There was also a delicious looking red-head waiting for him at the corner bar.

And he was _fucking_ hungry.

Gerard actually liked his work. Being surrounded by beauty all day was worth the mountains of paperwork and politics he had to schlep through daily; but for the last week he’d been so absorbed that he’d forgotten to eat. It had been a long time since he’d let himself go so long and he could feel it draining him. The sun hurt his eyes more; it made him tired. He wasn’t as fast on his feet or quick witted. Every time he stepped out of his office, he felt the strange need to eat his assistant, this far gone, he’d probably drain the first person he could get his lips on.

Never shit where you sleep.

Another twenty minutes passed and it was nice and dark outside, rainy. Gerard decided that if he were going to be irritated, he could do it standing under the ledge out front, having a cigarette. No sooner had he stepped outside and lit the thing he was met with sharp cries of, “Watch out! MOVE!”

Not even thinking, Gerard stepped back and allowed the man on the bike skid into a trash can, falling ass over elbows onto the concrete. Gerard hoped that his parcel wasn’t damaged.

“Your first time on a bicycle?” he asked as he approached the man wiped out on the sidewalk in the rain.

“Hardy har har,” the kid replied, standing up and grabbing his things. “That’s hilarious. You try riding in this weather with old tires. The stopping part gets hard.” They walked back toward the building and Gerard swiped his key-card, allowing them access.  

Gerard walked around to a desk for a roll of paper towels. “Here, clean up. You might be hurt.” He _knew_ the messenger was hurt. He could smell the blood coming from under his hat. It was making him insanely hungry. “Check…uh. Yeah. Check your head and stuff?”

The messenger did as he was told, not even raising an eyebrow when Gerard made an excuse to go into another room for a second and calm himself. Killing the messenger wasn’t the best of ideas. It would be on record that Gerard was the last person the boy delivered to.  There was a deep, unnecessary breath and he straightened his back.

“You okay there…..?”

“Frank. Yeah. I’m fine. Just a little cut. I’ve wiped out before man, but thanks.” The kid was back to business suddenly, retrieving the envelope from his pack and looking at the label. “Sorry I’m late. The guy I picked this up from misplaced it. Took him forever to find it again,” he mumbled as he searched for a name. “Here it is. I have a delivery for a G. A. Way.” Frank smiled up, expecting Gerard to accept the envelope.

Goddamn. The boy way pretty. And it wasn’t just the thirst talking. Bright eyes and a killer smile… Frank even had a fair amount of tattoos, which is something Gerard had a major weakness for since he couldn’t ever get any of his own.

“You have a delivery for a gay? Wow that’s blunt,” Gerard laughed at Frank’s sudden expression of horror. “I mean, I’m not denying anything here, but I didn’t think I was that obvious.” He smirked and plucked the thing out of Frank’s hand. “I’m Gerard Arthur Way. Where do I sign? Close your mouth, man. It was a joke.”

Frank sputtered for a moment and held out a clip board and a pen, with which Gerard signed for the thing, brushing his fingers against Frank’s holding the board. Frank couldn’t help but think about how beautiful Gerard’s hands were. How his long fingers looked like an artists, down to the red paint under his nails. Gerard chuckled again and that brought Frank’s attention to his mouth. That mouth looked capable of a few works of art, too. Frank then realized he was staring like a weirdo and cleared his throat glancing away.

Gerard’s phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen. “Guess you’re not coming. Some other time? – A” He couldn’t remember for the life of him what A had stood for. The only problem this presented was that now Gerard was starving and in the presence of a gorgeous, blushing, _bleeding_ male specimen.

Suck and fuck had a completely different definition to Gerard. Maybe, if Frank was into it, he could keep him alive? Shame to end such a thing of beauty. And Frank _had_ been staring at his mouth.

“Tell me, Frank. You don’t happen to swing my way, do you?” Gerard asked with a lopsided grin and a cocked eyebrow.

Frank grinned right back. “Not always, but between you and I, I can be a little directionally challenged. Gone your way before. Liked it well enough to go again. This an invite?”

So the mousy little thing was bold? Gerard liked that. He liked it a lot.

“Dinner and drinks?” he offered.

“Yeah. I’m done for the night. Got someplace I can change out of these shorts?” he asked opening his bag to reveal a pair of jeans and Converse.

In my office, Gerard wanted to say, but he knew that if he got Frank alone in a closed, lockable space, the boy wasn’t leaving alive.  “The bathrooms are down this hall and to your left. Third door. I’m going to check in with the evening receptionist. I’ll be back in a few. Take your time.”

Frank nodded and wandered off to make himself presentable while Gerard went to take a few sips from Janet. He was starving and taking it easy would be hard, but he just reminded himself that Frank was going to be a worthwhile main course, and he could resist the appetizers.

When he left the dazed, smiling woman and met the other man near the back entrance again, he was feeling better, if not sated.  “You can leave your bike inside the door here. We can take my car? Raining.”

Frank laughed and agreed, trying to swallow his uneasiness. This was a safe place to leave his things and Gerard seemed like a nice guy with a good job and some standing in the community. Not the serial killer type.

There was something about his smile though. Beautiful and vaguely dangerous. Frank might have been hooked.

 

 


	4. And Now The Night Club Sets the Stage for This; They Come in Pairs.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little more solid. A little surprising.  
> A little smutty.

 

“You’re not drinking anything?” Frank asked as he ordered his Jack and Coke, staring at the older man with humor in his eyes.

“No. I don’t actually drink all that often. Overindulgence is a bit of a problem for me,” Gerard answered, trying to feign sheepishness and flashing a three year sober chip he’d taken off of a drunk he’d drained outside of a seedy bar on the other side of the city. Props were amazing things. “I’ll have the occasional glass of wine or something, but my bar hopping days are behind me.”

“Oh. Well. Good for you, man.” Frank nodded in respect, but making a note to have his first drink be his last. No way was he stupid enough to get drunk while his date, a complete stranger, stayed sober. Gerard seemed nice, and all, but this was New York. Couldn’t be too careful.

They laughed easily together, ordered a pile of appetizers instead of an actual dinner and shared all of them; luckily Frank didn’t seem to notice that Gerard was knocking as many bites to the floor as he was eating.

 Gerard learned that Frank was a vegetarian and co-owned the messaging company he worked for. He and a friend started it up two years ago and it was doing fairly well. Frank was also a guitarist in between bands, but he still loved to play in his free time.

Frank really liked Gerard. Curating art exhibits at a major museum seemed like stuffy work, but the way Gerard’s eyes lit up when he talked about the individual pieces made him smile. The man seemed to truly love his work, as well as his family. He spoke kindly of his mother and father back in Jersey and his little brother out in LA, playing bass in a semi-well-known rock outfit.

They liked the same music and movies. They both liked dogs more than cats. They both hated riding the train in the late afternoon and they both loved super heroes. Frank was in serious Like with Gerard.

Gerard would be inclined to say the same. Frank was a beautiful thing to look at, and he wasn’t so naïve to think that there couldn’t be companionship there, but Frank would have to survive the night first. And when he killed Frank, not if, but when, Gerard knew he wouldn’t feel a damn thing. So… he wasn’t really capable of love in the traditional sense, was he?

When the evening wrapped up, Gerard made the invitation. “Would you like to come back to my place for a while? I could show you some of my work? Make a pot of coffee?”

“Sure.” Frank smiled and Gerard was a bit surprised. He hadn’t needed to use his persuasion. Frank wanted to come up. The date had gone better than planned.

However. Frank didn’t seem interested in the coffee or the sketches. No. The moment the lock was turned and they were safely inside Gerard’s home, Gerard found his back against the wall in the entryway and Frank’s mouth against his. He gave a small groan at the feeling of the shorter man pressed up against him, hands in his hair, leaning up on his tip-toes. Good god the boy could kiss.

Gerard’s hands fell to Frank’s hips and pulled their lower halves closer. The hunger was intense with Frank in such close proximity, but Gerard found it strangely manageable. Hands worked at jackets and shirts and belt buckles as Gerard took control back and pushed Frank toward the bedroom. Frank’s jeans were already down around his knees, exposing his boxers, and Gerard pushed him down on his bed before removing them completely and then stepping back to take a look. “You’re like a canvas, Frankie. Gorgeous.” Gerard was already shirtless and his tight jeans were unzipped and hanging open in the front. Frank bit his lips when he noticed the bulge already starting to form just behind that zipper; it was like the mere sight of Frank was turning him on.

Gerard went to his dresser and pulled out a box of condoms and a bottle of lube. “If I may be so bold, Frank. You’re going to fuck me tonight.” He tossed the materials onto the bed next to Frank and pulled off his own jeans, black boxer-briefs growing tighter as he anticipated the release. He would much prefer to be on the giving end of things, sure, but he wanted to give Frank a fighting chance. If Gerard got inside of him, their fun would be short lived. Frank would be short lived.

“Fuck yes I am.” Frank reached for the bottle, but Gerard stopped him with a hand over his, crawling over Frank’s body. “Not yet, though. I want to play first.” Looking him dead in the eyes Gerard continued, “Things might get rough. I’m going to bite. You’re going to bleed. You’re not scared. You like it. It feels erotic.”

Frank smiled lazily and nodded. “Go ahead. I like it rough.”

With a smirk and low growl, Gerard took his lips again, sliding his tongue into the other man’s mouth when Frank gasped. Gerard was straddling him, hips grinding down onto hips, hands in hair, as Frank’s hands traveled down and grabbed Gerard’s hips roughly, fingers dipping below the waistband of his underwear.

“Fuck. Gerard….” Frank whimpered as Gerard’s mouth moved down to his neck, licking and sucking at his pulse point. Such a fine layer of skin separated life from death. Gerard became dizzy.

“You smell delicious, Frankie. Fucking _edible_.”

“Mmmmpfff.” Gerard’s mouth was on the move again, tracing sloppy kisses down his inked chest and tugging off Frank’s boxers with his _teeth._ Frank had never seen anything so hot in all of his life. “Holy shit, man.”

Gerard grinned at his lover’s response and quickly took the head of Frank’s erection into his mouth, causing another spirited vocalization from above. He took the entire length in, opening his throat to allow his lips to meet the base of Frank’s dick; Frank nearly choked on the sounds he was making. He was loud, and that only made Gerard more vicious. Pulling back slightly, Gerard used his tongue to massage the underside of the member in his mouth, occasionally applying suction and moving up to swirl his tongue around the tip. He could feel Frank tightening. Getting ready to come undone.

With a loud - pop – Gerard released Frank’s penis, chuckling at the whine of disappointment from the other. He replaced his mouth with his hand, going slower, more teasingly, and moved his lips to Frank’s inner thigh.

“Ow! Shit! Ohhh…” Frank tensed when Gerard first bit into the artery there, but true to Gerard’s suggestion, the pain faded and Frank began to moan like a whore as Gerard sucked.

He tasted amazing. Like coffee and sunshine and _Frank_. Gerard growled into the flesh and drew more and more of Frank’s blood out. He could have stopped at any time, but he tasted so…perfect. He would have drained the boy had Frank not interrupted him.

“Mmm. Gerard. Come here. Wanna fuck you. Now.”

Well. Gerard couldn’t say no to that, could he? He was all at once reminded of his painfully erect dick and detached himself, licking the wounds clean and sealed before removing his undergarments and crawling up to be level with Frank. He kissed him again, Frank could taste the blood on his lips. And that made it all so much hotter. Frank was going to survive this. And Gerard was going to have him again and again.

“Yes, sir.” Gerard handed Frank the lube and rolled over onto his stomach, presenting his ass like a good boy. Frank chuckled and Gerard could feel him move to his knees clumsily. Whoops. Maybe Gerard should have stopped sooner.

Gerard’s smile turned into a gasp as he felt Frank press a slicked up finger to his entrance, spreading the substance before massaging it slightly and pushing in.  Before long, Frank had three fingers in Gerard’s hole and was stretching him, curling his digits and scissoring them. Gerard bottomed very rarely, so this simple act was driving him insane. He groaned and growled, but not from the hunger. From the lust.

“Oh my God. Frank. Just get inside me. Now.”

Frank’s eyes went wide as he took in the sight of Gerard up on his knees, his head was buried in a pillow, turned to its side and looking up at him. The fire in his eyes was intense. The curve of Gerard’s spine was beautiful and Frank ran a hand from between Gerard’s shoulders up to where his tailbone met his ass.

“Whatever you say, beautiful.” Frank reached for the condoms and rolled one onto his length, using even more lubricant to ensure that he didn’t injure his lover. Lining up and holding Gerard’s hips firmly, Frank sank into Gerard slowly with a loud, mewling noise that was echoed by Gerard’s growl.

“Holy shit. G. You’re so fucking tight.” Frank stroked his hips appreciatively and paused a second. “You okay?”

“Fuck you, I’m fine. Don’t stop!”

Gerard hadn’t ever felt anything like this before. Full and aroused and goddamn happy. The burn of being stretched was replaced by electric pleasure as Frank started thrusting into him, making his obscene, beautiful noises. Electricity became nuclear explosions when Frank found Gerard’s prostate, hitting it over and over again; encouraged by Gerard’s calls of, “More. Motherfucker… more… “

Frank was lost in the animalistic way Gerard moved and sounded. Growling and purring overtaking his own moans and shouts. The tight way that Gerard surrounded him and milked his dick was making him see sparks. Frank’s head was cloudy and his body moved on auto pilot, doing what he had to do to make them both come.  As Frank reached his peak, he leaned down and bit Gerard roughly behind his shoulder, tasting the tang of blood and sweat and suckling. Frank loved to give hickeys.

When Frank’s teeth clamped around Gerard’s flesh, his eyes grew wide and he let out what Frank would later call a roar as he orgasmed instantaneously. What the fuck was _that_? No one had ever bitten him back before. That was a completely new sensation, one that drove Gerard over the edge into pure, blind bliss.

As Frank removed himself and tied the prophylactic up, depositing it on the hardwood floor beside the bed, Gerard rolled back onto his back, completely spent. Frank moved in next to him and slid an arm behind Gerard’s shoulders.

They were… cuddling. Post coital cuddling.

Gerard had never done such a thing. At first the revelation was startling, but he settled into the warm glow that was Frank. He was comfortable. Happy. He rolled over to wrap and arm around Frank and look him in the eyes.

“You’re going to call me and text me whenever you want. You’re going to forget that I drank your blood, but enjoy the fact that I’m a biter. Oh. And you’re going to wake up tomorrow and decide vegetarianism isn’t for you. You’re going to eat lots of red meat and dark leafy greens. Iron.”

It would be so easy to plant the suggestion that Frank would want to date Gerard exclusively, but part of what made Gerard melt around Frank was the genuine desire they had for each other. If things went sideways, Gerard could compel him to stay, but….

In either case, he wasn’t letting Frank Iero go. No fucking way.

Frank was grinning. Completely satisfied. It was too early to tell, but maybe Gerard would be into a repeat performance. He was a good guy with a lot of the same interests. Amazing in bed.

“Hey, Gee. Don’t let me forget to get your number. I don’t think I’m done with you just yet,” Frank said, completely blissed out.

“Me either, Frank. I’m so not done with you.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated.


	5. Someone buy me roses. Someone burn the church.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you guys. SO! I apologize for the lack of on-time update. I believe I mentioned in the comments that I have been treating myself to one of my famous benders. Lots of writing happens on these benders but not so much proofreading or posting, for obvious reasons. Other things that happen on benders: Breaking four pairs of ear buds, waking up in my kitchen sans pants, fisticuffs with neighbors, disappointed parents, amused friends, and lots of screech-singing. 
> 
> So here I sit with my fifth cup of coffee, mostly sober.
> 
> And I'm ready to do this fanfiction thing again. 
> 
> Enjoy. Or don't. You know. I'm not your father. 
> 
> BUT I AM YOUR DADDY.  
> Whoops. Okay.
> 
> Maybe still a little drunk.

Two weeks.

Gerard had been seeing Frank for two weeks. And what’s worse, it wasn’t like when he dated the others. He didn’t just see Frank once or twice a week when he needed to feed; Gerard saw Frank nearly every other day, whether it was for half an hour on a break, grabbing a cup of coffee or going out on actual dates.

Dates. That’s another thing. Dates are a means to an end for Gerard.  A way to lure a person into his home. Once a “sexual” relationship was established, Gerard never had to worry about dating. He’d just call the girl up or text her and ask her to swing by. Not so much a booty call as ordering takeout.

He _enjoyed_ Frank’s company, however. Gerard could listen to him talk about the bands he had been in or the shows he had seen all day. He was so passionate about music, Gerard had to wonder what he was doing running a bike messenger service.

The pair had caught a handful of shows over the last two weeks. No bands really worth seeing again, really, there was always some dive bar with locals playing around here. But even if the band was, in Gerard’s opinion, subpar, Frank would pull Gerard close and talk in his ear about the way the guitars sounded or the changes he would make or other little observations. He caught himself more than once smiling at Frank dopily, ruffling his hair… being _affectionate_. It made his heart skip a beat sometimes when Frank smiled back like Gerard was the best thing he’d ever seen.

Such responses couldn’t be trusted, of course. Gerard knew the reality of things. This was a pastime. A dalliance. Sure, it was a fun one, but it would end and end bloodily. Gerard would be no worse for the wear.

The events that occurred in the bedroom, however, were sometimes less than affectionate. They were brutal. Satisfying. Electric.  Gerard was a dominate person by nature, but found out, rather surprisingly, that he enjoyed occasionally being viciously topped by Frank. From the first time Frank sunk his teeth into Gerard’s pale flesh, the vampire knew he was done for. Frank was rough and demanding. He took what he wanted from Gerard’s body mercilessly, but not unpleasantly; he did so in a way that left Gerard feeling like his insides were set to vibrate and his legs and spine were made from gelatin. No one had ever taken such liberties with him. All the lovers Gerard had ever had were more than willing to let Gerard set the tone, but Frank would wouldn’t hesitate to slap Gerard on the ass or tug his hair to get him just where Frank wanted.

It was irresistible.

Also irresistible was the way Frank deferred to him on almost every subject except for sex. The way that Frank’s shy eyes met Gerard’s before he took his hand in public the first time, almost asking permission to so openly display affection. The way Frank looked to Gerard while hesitantly trying to choose between a vegetarian entrée and this weird craving he had for a medium rare steak. Without using any persuasion, Gerard told Frank to choose whatever he was hungriest for and Frank was instantly mollified, confidently ordering the steak with a smile.

Gerard was growing slightly attached. He was almost mournful about the fact that one day he would definitely lose control. He was definitely going to kill Frank.

He realized, with a concrete sort of feeling, that Frank meant more to him than two weeks of friendship and fucking one day when Frank answered his cell phone as they two were out to dinner.

“It’s my mom, Gee. I gotta take this.” Frank turned in his seat.

Gerard nodded and pulled out his own cell phone, pretending to scroll through Reddit while using his excellent hearing to detect both ends of the conversation.

“Hey mom.”

“Frankie! There you are. You know I’ve left you a half dozen messages this week. Where have you been?” His mother didn’t sound angry, she sounded concerned.

“I’ve been busy, ma. That’s all.”

“Ray says you’ve been working your normal hours, Frankie. What’s really going on?” she countered.

“You called Ray?! Jesus, Mom! Stalk much?”

“Don’t change the subject, young man. What’s going on?”

“I dunno. I’ve been going out a lot. I usually keep my phone on silent, so I don’t get your messages until late. Sorry.” Frank sounded upset that he’d offended his mother. Gerard smiled. Why was that so cute?

“Alright son. Well. Fill me in. What’s going on with you? How’s work? Are you going out because you’ve joined another band?”

“No. No new band. Just been… I uh… I actually can’t talk right now mom. I’m out to dinner. Can I call you tomorrow?” Frank tapped his fingers in his knee nervously.

“Out… and you can’t speak to your mother for five minutes? Who are you out with Frank Anthony Iero?”

“Gerard,” Frank supplied hoping that was enough for his mother. He cast an apologetic glace to his date, rolling his eyes and mouthing “Moms!” Gerard smiled and shrugged, pretending to carry on reading, politely and pointedly not paying attention to Frank’s call.

“And Gerard is… whom? Seriously who is this friend that has you all nervous to talk to me?” Fat chance was his mother going to let this go. Frank wasn’t even being awkward or suspicious. He guessed mom’s just had a sixth sense for these things.

“…My boyfriend, mom, and I’d like to get back to dinner with him. We both have to be up early tomorrow.” Frank mumbled, turning around completely.

There was probably more to that conversation, but Gerard didn’t hear it. He wasn’t listening anymore or pretending not to pay attention. His lips parted in shock and stared off into the distance thinking _boyfriend…?_

Why wasn’t that making him laugh or pissing him off? Gerard had not been a boyfriend in so long. He was a lover. A fuck buddy. A date… but not a boyfriend. That word had connotations of exclusivity and romance that Gerard never associated with himself anymore. But Frank was different than the parade of women he’d pretended to fuck. He drank from Frank, sure, but there was more. Companionship. Compatibility in and out of bed. The best orgasms of his life and his blood was richer and more delicious…. More satisfying even…. Than anything he’d ever tasted. Gerard hadn’t even thought about drinking or fucking anyone else in the two weeks he’d known Iero.

Frank was more.

Frank was his boyfriend.  

Well shit. Gerard smiled and brought himself back to the present, shaking his head. Okay. So. He had feelings for the guy. That was nice. Feelings were nice. Attachment felt good after spending so much time just satisfying his needs. Eventually Frank would die and he would go back to the face-paced life of a playboy. This would be a nice break, though.

Frank was turning back around now, cellphone pocketed, eyes sheepish. “Sorry. Moms, you know? Mine’s an Italian Catholic… she worries more than most.”

Gerard nodded sagely. “Mine, too. I never even told her about me being into guys. She’d worry twice as much. I get calls five times a week asking if I’m eating enough and wearing sunscreen. I don’t need her to call and check on the status of my immortal soul.” Gerard took a piece of break from the basket and drug it through the tomato and oil sauce on his plate, wishing for other red liquids. He was hungry tonight and picking at human food was making it worse, not better. He wanted to get home, but he couldn’t resist teasing Frank first. “So… boyfriend, huh?”

Frank choked on his drink and Gerard grinned. “Oh god. I was hoping you would either not hear that or completely ignore it. I know it’s only been a couple weeks and all….” Frank put his head in his hands and groaned. “Okay. So. Fuck you very much for making me address this out loud but… yeah. I have feelings for you, dude. Like, out of control wanna be with you feelings. I know exclusivity hasn’t been your thing in the past… I talked to your secretary the last time I stopped in for lunch… but it is mine. I just. Shut up. It’s stupid. I’m sorry. Let’s get the check and you can take me home and fuck me and then never call me again, okay? Okay.”

Gerard waved the server over and handed her a credit card, all with a giant shit-eating grin on his face. Frank was red and embarrassed for being called out and made to admit his feelings. Being flustered made Frank a little edgy… a little angry. Mission accomplished.

Gerard stood and moved so he was sitting next to Frank rather than across from. He leaned in close and whispered into Frank’s ear in a voice he knew was going to send shivers down the other man’s spine. “I’m _definitely_ going to take you home and fuck you, Frank.” He slid a hand into Frank’s lap discretely. All Gerard wanted at that moment was blood and sex from this adorable, flustered ball of nerves. Frank shuddered and the light brush of Gerard’s fingers over his inner thigh, the bite marks Gerard liked to leave there.  

Someone cleared their throat over Gerard’s shoulder and he tuned and smiled at the server, moving his hand innocently to Frank’s knee as his right hand shot out to sign the credit card slip, leaving a generous tip by way of apology. He knew this girl. This restaurant had chicken parmesan that reminded him of his mother’s and he often took dates here just so he could smell it. Enjoy a bite or two, even. “Excuse me. My boyfriend didn’t finish his dinner. Do you think you could have it wrapped for him? He’ll end up exhausted later, and he needs to keep his strength up.” The waitress grinned knowingly.

“Sure thing, Mr. Way.” She leaned in and stage whispered, “He’s completely adorable, sir. You did okay with this one.”  

“Hmmm, yeah. I think so, too. You might see us around more, Gretchen. I think I’ll hang on to this handsome thing a while.”

Gerard could see the blush creeping up Frank’s chest and over his face. His groin tightened and his throat flared in flames, equally insistent on their desires.

Gretchen returned in a moment with the packaged food and Gerard was still staring at Frank, who at this point was staring back, chewing on his lip ring, his eyes just as full of lust and something softer. Gerard scooped up the box and thanked Gretchen before offering Frank his arm. “Come one, honey. Let’s go home.”

 

 

 


	6. Kill This Venom From My Heart.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If blood kinks disturb you... skip the bulk of this chapter.

There were a lot of things Gerard enjoyed about his life. He had the freedom to create the art that was his passion and curate the art of others for the world to see. He was at the peak of health and wealth and the status of the latter could only improve. He was pretty much immune to death, and that was pretty fucking sweet. There was also a beautiful, tattooed young man with his mouth around Gerard’s dick and his wrist at Gerard’s lips. And that?

That was excellent.

Gerard had gotten so much better at this whole feeding and fucking thing. It was nearly impossible for Gerard to climb into bed with Frank and not take a taste, so, being the incredibly intelligent being he was, Gerard made a point to sneak out of the city one day a week and get some take out. Nothing was the same after taking Frank’s blood though, and it was unsatisfying. To feel satiated, Gerard would have to nearly drain the other victims. But that was fine. It was. He fed away from home and always with the various forms of lowlifes hiding in the alleyways being seedy bars. Didn’t always kill his dinner, but if they died… well. A few slashes of a blade to the bite marks and other areas as well as a weighted dip in the Hudson would settle things for now.

What’s better was that it meant Gerard was never very hungry. He could feed from Frank, taking just a mouthful or two at a time most nights, without putting him under additional risk. Like eating salad all week and sneaking a bite of cake in there as well. Satisfying a sweet tooth. Rarely was Frank the meal anymore. That’s not to say the man was never in any danger from Gerard. Nights like tonight when Gerard was being pleasured while enjoying his snack made the problem of potential overindulgence very real. As much as Gerard cared for the other man, he knew that one day he would lose it and kill him.

Only the thought of never tasting Frank or feeling his touch again made Gerard keep control. “Off. Baby….”Gerard broke contact with Frank’s skin and began pushing his head away from his crotch. He was enjoying himself too much, pulling too much blood through the wound. “Frank… get offa me.”

Frank looked up with hooded eyes, as if hearing Gerard’s voice for the first time. He didn’t even acknowledge the blood dripping down his wrist. “Huh? G…?”

Gerard laughed and pushed Frank down on the mattress. “I said get off of me, Frank. It’s your turn.” The blood was flowing down Frank’s arm in tiny rivulets. Gerard had bitten deeper than he thought, caught up in the moment. Making a move to seal the wound with his saliva, Gerard had sudden inspiration.

In one motion, Gerard squeezed a little blood from Frank into the palm of his other hand. Frank’s eyes were confused. This was new. As always Gerard licked the wound clean and closed and then turned his attention to Frank’s rock hard cock. Gerard dipped two fingers into the pool of cooling blood in his hand and with deft strokes, painted a line up the underside of Frank’s dick, curling it around the tip and tracing the fluid up to the base at the front, getting the mess lost in the sparse curls of pubic hair there.

“You’re gorgeous all bloody, Frankie.”

Frank’s eyes were wide, but not with fear or disgust, Gerard noted, with interest; they were darkened with lust. Gerard hadn’t once had to influence Frank to be okay with the blood or the pain, Frank liked that on his own. The only thing Gerard put a stop to was telling anyone else or remembering that Gerard drank the blood. As far as Frank was concerned, they were a healthy young professional couple with a kinky, private, perfect sex life.

By now Gerard had wrapped the blood laden hand around Frank and began to pump, using it as lubricant. Frank had never been more turned on in his life.

“Suck me, G.”

Gerard laughed. “Great minds…” he said before dipping his head and doing just that. The heady taste of Frank’s blood mingled with the tang of his pre-come and Gerard moaned around the member.

“Oh, fucking hell, Gerard!” Frank had one hand clenched on the sheets and the other firmly rooted in Gerard’s hair, tugging painfully. Gerard loved it. Every reaction coaxed out of his lover sent his mind into a blind, lusty haze.

“Fu— G. That thing with your tongue. The swirly… do that. Fuck yes.” Frank was loud and quickly coming undone. Gerard could feel everything tightening under his tongue and lips. That was his cue to stop, if he ever wanted to get fucked.

And he really, really did.

Moving up Frank’s body and ignoring his protests, Gerard lined him self up with Frank’s tip and smirked at his boyfriend.

“Whaa? No.. I mean. I should prep you?” Frank fumbled for lube that he knew was somewhere close by.

“Nope. I want it like this. Painful, covered in my spit and your blood. I’m going to fuck myself on your dick until you can’t tell what’s making me scream, the stretch or the pleasure?”

Frank’s eyes rolled back in his head. “Yes please. You say the sweetest fucking things to me.”

With no more time wasted on words, Gerard slammed himself down and let out a growl of agony and ecstasy. As he worked up a brutal rhythm, Frank called out his name over and over again.

Music to Gerard’s ears.

His cock twitched in between them and he brought his own wrist to his mouth, biting hard and releasing a little of his own blood, dripping it onto his dick and using his injured hand to stoke himself while Frank watched. It was literally the best sex of Frank’s life. Despite Gerard angling the right way for his prostate to be practically abused, Frank came first and violently at the sight of G’s gore covered dick being pumped between them.

Gerard was so close. So close. But he found that pleasure cut short when Frank shoved him off. Taken aback for a moment, Gerard barely noticed the hungry look in Frank’s eyes as he dove for Gerard’s dick, taking the whole thing into his mouth, choking on the length. Frank tasted Gerard’s blood and let out a moan that was so obscene it would be edited out of a pornographic film. He sucked harder. Tried the tongue thing himself.

Gerard was writhing. Frank was enjoying the taste of his blood. The taste of him. And it was the sexiest thing Gerard had ever witnessed. With a roar and a fair amount of thrashing of his hips, Gerard finished, shooting his load into Frank’s mouth. “Oh my… fucking… God. Frankie….” Gerard was out of breath. It was wonderful.

Looking down at the other man, he noticed Frank had swallowed Greedily and was licking the blood and semen from every inch of Gerard’s over-sensitized dick. When finished Frank looked up into G’s eyes with a beatific smile. His face was smeared in blood and his eyes were glassy. Fucked out. Absolutely fucking gorgeous. Breathtaking.

“Love you, G.”

“Shit. I... I Lo…Love you, too Frankie.” Because he couldn’t deny it. Gerard loved Frank, in the way he was capable.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. So. I've been busy and shit. But I thought I would post this chapter. Just because I love you guys. Let me know what you all think. Or not. That's cool.


	7. And If They Get Me and the Sun Goes Down Into the Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit's going down.  
> Not all of it good. 
> 
> So. Yeah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters posted today : 6 & 7

Frank hadn't returned his text. 

 

Gerard sat next to the window in his office, blowing smoke out of his nostrils and huffing in irritation, checking his phone every fifteen-fucking-minutes. 

**To: Frank [ 11:48 AM]**

**"Hey, baby. My little brother is passing through the area tonight. He wants to know if you wanna grab dinner?"**

Now, Gerard was not the type to blow up a phone, but Mikey had asked him again if Frank was up for it, hinting that maybe it wasn't as serious as Gerard made it out to be in his weekly Skype calls. 

**To: Frank [1:32 PM]**

**"Don't mean to be a pest, here, but I wanna take Mikey out somewhere nice. I need to know if you're coming so I can make reservations."**

When that got no response, he began to worry. There was no way Frank had any delivery that would keep him from checking his phone for more than two hours. He called the office to speak with Ray. 

"Cellabration Express, Ray speaking."

"Yes, Ray? Ray Toro? Uh... my name is Gerard. I'm Frank's..."

"The boyfriend! Really? Man, I totally thought he made you up." 

Gerard's eyebrows lifted. "What did you think was responsible for the sudden addition of purple bruising around his neck tattoos? A vacuum cleaner?" 

Ray seemed to be laughing. "Yeah, I guess. I dunno. I've been on his case about dating more often and I thought he made you up to shut  _me_ up, you know? I guess I really can stop encouraging him to go get laid, huh?"

"That would be... advisable." Gerard was trying to keep the deadly tone out of his voice. He didn't like someone Frank was so close to encouraging him to date other people. Ray couldn't have known for sure, he supposed and it wasn't really his fault, but it seemed that Gerard had grown a little unusually possessive over Frank. Hm. "Listen. I'm calling because I haven't been able to reach Frank. Is he in the office? I don't want to bug him if he's busy. I just need to know about dinner reservations." Gerard. Trying not to sound clingy. What a day for firsts. 

"Uh, no man. I kind of thought he was out with you, you know, if you existed. He left at about ten am saying something about going to your office and taking you out for coffee. You really drink that shit strong and black, man? Nasty..."

Gerard chuckled. It was sort of cute that Frank was talking about him so much. "I do. But, here's the thing, Ray. He never showed up at my office. My secretary has orders to page me whenever he comes in, no matter what I'm doing." Gerard checked the phone on his desk and the screen of his Mac. No alerts. "I don't have any messages or memos at all. Hey listen, I'm worried about him now. If you hear from him, ask him to call me right away, okay?" 

"Yeah, sure." Ray coughed. "Hey. Uh, listen. Frank's a good dude. He's been my friend for a long fucking time and he's pretty in love with you. I thought it was some big production to make his case but man... if you're real and he gushes about you like that... I can see it.  Anyway, not to spoil that image for you, but if you break his heart I will fucking kill you, do you understand?" 

Gerard's laugh was genuine. "Yes, Ray. I understand. Frank is safe with me," he lied easily. Well. His heart was safe sure. Gerard would never cheat on him or do anything to emotionally hurt him. Gerard absolutely would kill him, though. He'd be safe until then. 

"Alright man. Hope you find him. Little shit has office duty tomorrow. I need to get on the bike."

"Okay, Ray. Bye."

"Yup."

The call disconnected and Gerard pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing the intercom button. "Marjorie? Did Mr. Iero stop by today?" 

"Sorry sir, Marjorie went home with a stomach bug early this morning. I'm Samantha, the temp. Sir a Mr. Iero came in while you were on the phone about the Gauguin. Marjorie had that flagged as a very important call so I told him you were unavailable. He declined to wait saying, and I quote, "Nah, tell the big guy Frank'll text him after work." That message is in the stack I have on my desk waiting to be filed for the day." 

So Frank had stopped by after all. Gerard kicked himself for wearing Frank's undershirt to work today. If his nose hadn't been filled with Frank's scent already, he would have smelled him just thirty feet away through two sets of double doors. Now he was in the wind, not at work, not answering his phone. This could be bad. New York was a dangerous place.

"Okay. For future reference, and please pass this along to the temp pool, Frank Iero is my boyfriend and I am to be notified immediately via email or intercom if he calls or comes in. He has absolute priority." He again tried to keep the growl out of his voice and the image of breaking Samantha over his knee and drinking the blood from her spinal column out of his head. It wasn't  _really_ her fault either. 

Samantha must have picked up the aggression, though. "Sorry sir. I'll make a note of that and let the others know. I'm sorry. Oh my gosh." 

Gerard didn't bother to reply. He had a stack of work to do and at least one more conference call, but he swung his jacket over his shoulder and grabbed his messenger bag. 

**To: Frank [3:08 PM]**

**"Worried about you, baby. Called Ray. Why didn't you text or call my cell when the temp didn't let you in, babe? You know I always have time for you."**

Gerard closed and locked his office door behind him and stopped in front of Marjorie's desk. "Cancel everything for the rest of my day, Samantha. Send my apologies. Tell them there's an emergency." 

The girl blanched and nodded, obviously connecting the dots between Frank and her boss's sudden emergency. "Yes sir. I will. Good luck."

Gerard nodded curtly and made his way downstairs and out the door. 

Frank's scent was still in the air, and he followed it as far as he could, only to have it masked and depleted at the nearest subway entrance. 

Gerard growled and kicked the railing. "Fuck!"

He was going to have to just wait and pray that Frank texted him back. 

 

Jesus. 

 

 


	8. You Put the Spike In My Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three Chapters. One day.
> 
> I am magical.
> 
> Posted today: Chapters 6, 7, & 8

"Why are you so fidgety, Gee-Tard? So what your boyfriend bailed. I mean, he's allowed to have a life, right?" Mikey sipped his drink and looked around at the restaurant, possibly looking for a pretty girl to take home for the night. "I was just teasing about thinking he doesn't exist." 

"It's not that Mikey. I just have a really fucking bad feeling. That's all." Gerard checked his texts again. Nothing. Shit. "If you're cruising for pussy, bro, I'll remind you that you're sleeping in my guest room tonight, and they last time you did that you left in the morning and she didn't."

"Hey. I was running late and she wouldn't wake up. You can't hold that against me."

"Yes I can. If you leave your one night stands in my home again, I will eat them MikeyWay, I swear to god." 

Yeah. Mikey knew. If Gerard ever wanted to see his brother and best friend again, he had to tell Mikey the truth about why he wasn't aging. But really, the moment Gerard knew when to tell his brother was the day his brother shot him. 

+++

In hindsight, it had been really dumb to buy his brother a handgun. Really dumb. But it had been three years ago and little Mikey was going on tour with his band and Gerard wouldn't be there to fight his battles for him. At the time, it seemed like a smart idea for Mikey to be able to protect himself.

So the boys had gone into the woods in upstate New York to practice. Gerard's aim and reflexes were great, because of the vampirism, and he enjoyed letting Mike think he was some kind of covert expert marksman when the shot the bullseyes perfectly each time. 

Then came Mikey's turn. He'd done alright for a first timer and a human, but at the end of it was frustrated that Gerard was better at it than him. Miley slammed the 9mm on the stump in front of him and the gun went off. He'd never put the safety on. The bullet left the barrel at the right angle to lodge itself in Gerard's chest. Mikey was in tears as he rushed to his brother's side and pulled out his cell phone to dial 911. 

"I'm sorry, Gee. So, so sorry. Oh my god." 

The pain in Gerard's chest was intense. He could feel the muscles separating and the bones splintering. Missed his heart, though. That was nice. "Jesus Christ. What was the first thing we talked about MikeyWay?! The SAFETY?" He grabbed Mikey's cellphone and pulled the battery out. "Don't fucking call anyone. I'll be fine. Dipshit. Gimme your pocket knife."

Gerard stripped his jacket and shirt off, grunting because every movement he made jostled the bullet. "FUCK. That hurts. And that was my favorite Bowie shirt, you dick!"

Mikey'd stared in disbelief as his brother jammed the tip of the knife into the bullet wound over his sternum and popped the fucker out. "What...the...motherfuck. Gee? What hell!?"

"Shut up and let me breathe a minute."  

"I need to get you a hospital while you're still breathing, you psycho. YOU JUST DUG A BULLET OUT OF YOUR CHEST, ASSHOLE. You'll bleed to death." Mikey was panicking. Gerard was reaching for his brother's wrist. 

"I'm real sorry, Mikes. This is gonna freak you the fuck out, but you did shoot me...." Mikey couldn't pull away. Gerard's grip was like a vice and his teeth were like razors. One minute Mikey was crying and the next he was screaming as Gerard bit into his wrist, taking a little blood. When he pulled back and wiped the blood from his Mouth, Mikey was just gaping. 

"You're... you're a..."

"Just fucking say it, Mikes."

"YOU'RE A VAMPIRE YOU MOTHERFUCKER." 

"Yes. And fuck you for making me tell you this way. I planned on some big, theatrical reveal. You ruin everything, baby bro. Sorry about your wrist though. Feeding makes me heal faster. Less painful. I fucking hate being shot. Here, lemme." Gerard licked the wound clean and immediately it stopped bleeding, it even hurt a lot less.

"Ew you fucking licked me."

" _That_ is what you have a problem with right now?"

"Do you sparkle?"

"Of all the goddamned vampire lore... you chose a Twilight reference? I expected better, brother."

"Well do you?"

"I'm going to fucking eat you, MikeyWay, if you do not shut up."

+++

 

The chime of Gerard's phone brought him to the present. Thank fuck. 

**From Frank [8:40 PM]:**

**"I'm fine. Going to bed. TTYL."**

Mikey was peeking over his brother's shoulder and reading the text. "Wow. That's all you get after all that? Hate to say it, but your boyfriend is kind of a cunt. And text speak. He uses text speak. Dump him, man."

If it was possible for Gerard to blanch, he would have. "No. He doesn't. And he signs all his texts xoxofrnk like some kind of middle schooler." 

"So... wait. What? What do you think is going on?"

"That wasn't Frank texting me, Mikey. He's fucking cheating on me."

"Well damn. I won't even get to meet him before he's dead huh?"

"Nope."


	9. I'll Never Let Them. I Can't Forget Them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four... That's right four... shortish chapters posted today, May 9th. 
> 
> Posted today: Chapters 6, 7, 8, & 9

"What exactly are you going to do when we get there, Gee?" Mikey was following Gerard up the steps to Frank's apartment, a little out of breath since he wasn't a goddamned vampire that could practically run five flights of stairs without breaking a sweat.

"You are going to do whatever it is creepy younger brothers do and I'm going to fuck and possibly drain my boyfriend in front of his new lover and then snap the other dude... or chick's... neck. I suggest you not come in, for at least the first part."

"Fucking gross, man."

"You asked. What do you think I live on, Mikey? Animal blood? More Twilight cracks? I'm not a fucking 'vegetarian.'"

"No. Not the blood. The fucking. I know you have sex, man. Just don't wanna think about it."

"Then don't."

"Seriously gross."

"My fucking a man is more disgusting to you than my murdering him. Drinking his blood? You're a sickfuck MikeyWay."

"Eat me."

"You taste bad."

 

 

The minute Gerard got to Frank's door, he could smell that Frank was alone, but that he hadn't been for long. There was a confusingly familiar male scent lingering, which made Gerard see red. It must be familiar because Frank had been seeing this other man for a while. God. Gerard felt like a moron.

With a snap of the wrist, the locked and dead bolted door cracked open, fracturing the doorframe. Mikey gulped. Gerard was really, really pissed. "Honey?! I'm home." Gerard would have realized he was cheekily ripping off every B horror movie ever if he'd been thinking straight. Clearly he was not.

Mikey trailed behind Gerard, not wanting to see his brother's vampiredick in action. At all. Gee threw open the bedroom door and Mikey didn't follow him in, unsure of how accurate Gerard's threats were. He was just here to help clean up the bodies. That was what brothers were for, right?

Gerard threw the covers off of Frank and took his form in. Something wasn't right about that. At all. He was still in his jeans and he was curled in the fetal position, asleep. Gerard knew from experience that Frank couldn't sleep in anything more than his boxers and a T-shirt. This was floating in the back of his mind, but the forefront of his brain was centered on his boyfriend, smelling strongly of another man, completely ignoring him.

"Wake up buttercup." Gerard lifted Frank into a sitting position, none too gently. "Explain. Explain now while I still have the presence of mind to comprehend."

"What? G? What are you doing here?" Frank rubbed his eyes and smiled up at the man he loved before looking out the window. "Dude it's still dark and I don't have to check in at work until eight. Crawl in bed with me."

Gerard laughed, maybe a little meanly. "Why the fuck would I crawl into bed with you after some other guy just crawled out? You're pathetic." 

"Wait? What?" Frank was really, really confused. Who had just crawled out of his bed? He hadn't even crawled out of his bed yet. "Baby. What are you talking about? Just get in here and hold me, okay? I had a fucking weird dream."

"Frank. Where the fuck have you been all day? And who is the man I smell all over you, all over your apartment?! Who else are you fucking?! Boyfriend... must mean something different where you're from. Teased me about commitment issues. Fuck you, Frank."

"Whoaaa. Whoa. What?" Frank sat up again, starting to wake up. "No one. Gerard, I'm just with you. You know what you mean to me, babe." Frank rubbed a hand over his face. Drama queen. Jeez. What was going on? "....What do you mean smell? I was with you all day yesterday, babe. You took me home after dinner because I work the morning shift. You are literally the last person I talked to."

"Yeah. Last night. It's ten pm on Thursday, Frank. Where have you been all  _day?_ Who are you cheating on me with?" Gerard ignored the comment about smelling. Frank would see his teeth soon enough. He was gonna drain every delicious drop just as soon as he found out who the other man was so he could go kill him next. 

"What?!" Frank grabbed his phone and checked the time. "Shit, shit, shit! Gerard. I don't know what's going on with you but I am not cheating on you. Shit! How did I sleep all day?! I need to call Ray. He's gonna be so fucking pissed."

"He is pissed, but that is nothing compared to me." Gerard actually bared his fangs at Frank.

Frank shrunk back fearfully. "G. I'm not seeing anyone else. I swear. I just... I guess I slept all day. I'm sorry."

"No you didn't. You went to work and then left in the middle of the morning to get coffee with me. My idiot temp told you I was busy and you left. No one has seen you since. Except the guy you fucked all day. He's seen too damn much. You're mine, Iero. Don't you get that? Mine."

"Of course I am, G. I'm yours. I didn't fuck anyone I..." Frank was lost for words. "Baby... I haven't even left my bed." 

 

Gerard growled in frustration. Why wouldn't he just admit it! Gerard lunged at Frank, landing with his knees on either side of Franks stretched out legs. There was no use prolonging this is Frank was just going to lie. He wrapped his hands around Frank's throat and leaned in to bite.

He was going to tear Frank's throat out and jerk off over the corpse. 

Cheating bastard. 

Except he didn't. Gerard didn't go in for the kill. He was stopped by a very specific scent and a bite mark that wasn't made by him.

"Mother...fucker..."

 


	10. You Must Keep Your Soul

"MikeyWay! GET YOUR CREEPER ASS IN HERE."

Gerard backed up off of Frank and off of the bed. He backed himself up until he hit the dresser, rattling it contents, fists in his longish red hair.

"MIKEY!"

Mikey came barreling in "What, G?! What the fuck is wrong with you. Besides the obvious cheating lover situation?"

Gerard didn't have time for his brother's snarky shit. "Take Frank into the bathroom and stick him in the shower. Make sure he uses the strongest-smelling body wash he has... the one that smells like oranges." There was no way he could contain the rage he was feeling... If Frank didn't get out of the room and get that lingering smell off of him, Gerard was going to fucking  _claim_ him in a way that was going to leave his lover dead. And it turns out, Frank hadn't cheated on him. 

Frank sputtered but stood up. "Uh... okay? But can we like... talk? After I'm clean." Mikey was shaking his head and grabbing Franks arm. 

"Hi. I'm Mikey. Gee's baby brother. Let's give the man what he wants. Save the questions, I have no fucking answers..." 

Frank was looking back at Gerard with confusion in his eyes. He'd never seen Gerard so angry... so manic. When they were at the door to the en suite, Gerard stopped them. 

"I'll explain after your shower, babe. I'm sorry. I believe you." Gerard leaned into kiss Frank but just couldn't. Not while he could still smell  _him_. "Mikes. Lock the door. Don't let me hurt him. Please." 

When the two were inside and he could hear the shower running, Gerard unclenched his fists and screamed. Not that... not  _him._ He'd gotten to Frank and Gerard could only assume it was because of him. Because Gerard had been careless and open and obvious. 

It had been nearly fifteen years! Why just now, was that fucker making his presence known. The fucking text. Gerard was just OCD enough to keep track of Frank's speech patterns and texting habits. Charles would have known that the message would make Gerard suspicious. Was he hoping that he would show up and just murder Frank on the spot?

Or was it more likely that the older vampire was playing with him?

Fuck.

Gerard stripped the sheets off of the bed and threw them into the tiny washer/dryer combo in the hall closet, along with a good dose of bleach. After disabling the smoke detectors, Gerard threw Frank's discarded clothes into the deep steel sink and doused them with vodka, striking a match. The stench was too strong on them to wash out. After they'd been sufficiently scorched, Gerard turned the tap on and put the flames out. 

What next? Gerard emptied two cans of Febreeze through the place and then ran around rubbing his skin on every surface. By the time Frank was out of the shower and sitting on his bare mattress, dressing, Gerard had eliminated enough of the odor to maintain a little calm. 

"You going to be okay, bro? I might take a taxi back to yours. I'm fucking tired."

Gerard nodded at his brother. "Yeah, man. I'm sorry for this shit storm. If I don't see you, good luck okay? Skype on Sundays." 

"Yeah, man. Nice meeting you Frank!" Mikey called out and hugged his brother. "Let me know if you need me, Gee."

"I will. Bye Mikes."

 

Gerard reentered Frank's bedroom and wordlessly crawled up on the bed behind the shorter man and pulled him into his lap. Frank had changed into clean boxers and a flash T-shirt. Gerard put his face in Frankie's hair and inhaled, feeling calmer. "I'm sorry, Frankie. I know you didn't do anything wrong. I panicked. I love you."

Frank shifted silently and turned his head to kiss Gerard's lips. "It's okay. Mikey gave me the cliff notes version. He was sure you were going to dump me, he didn't know what made you change your mind." Gerard nodded and laid his head in the crook of Frank's neck, replacing memories of the other man's smell with his on unique scent. Frank was his. Just his.

"Baby?" Frank asked.

"Mmm. Yeah?" 

"How long have you been a vampire?"

 

Sonofabitch. 


	11. ...Like a Secret in Your Throat.

"How long have I... what?" Gerard knew what Frank said, he knew what he'd heard. But it wasn't that easy to just answer the question. He never told anyone that wasn't family about who and what he was. It didn't make sense to get people all riled up about it. He'd be committed or studied or... did people still parade around with pitchforks these days? 

"You heard me, G. I'm not angry or scared. I just want to know the truth, okay?" Frank's hands were stroking the tops of Gerard's thighs in a calm manner. G could tell that the other was serious. His heart beat wasn't erratic... there were no new waves of fear coming from him. Frank was just wholly confused. 

Gerard's hand went to fist in his hair, an old stress habit from when he'd been human. "About fifteen years? Give or take." 

Frank just nodded and resumed tracing the fabric of Gerard's genes. "You've been feeding off of me, haven't you?" 

"I... yes. I have." Well it didn't matter anymore what Gerard felt. Frank wasn't upset, but that didn't mean he was going to  _stay_ with the guy who had literally been leeching off of him. He was so, so, so fucked. "Please don't be mad at me, Frankie. I do my very best not to hurt you."

"I know. I trust you. You do it during sex, don't you? My mind gets a little fuzzy whenever there's blood play. I thought I was just losing too much blood, that I'd have to slow it down. But then when you were mad just now, I swear your canines got  _longer._ And then you said you smelled someone. Do you make me forget? Did you tell me I had to be in love with you?"

"No! Oh Jesus Christ. No. Whatever you feel... that's yours. I guess I could  _make_ you stay, if you wanted to leave me, but I really prefer that your feelings for me are genuine. I did make you forget that I  _swallow_ your blood. And there's a block in your mind preventing you from telling anyone how far our particular... kinks?... extend. But I really don't wanna fuck with your feelings, especially since I realized my feelings for you were real." Gerard could feel the panic rise in his voice. He sounded almost desperate.

Frank  _knew._ What was worse was that Frank had guessed. Gerard hadn't let anyone in so close in so very long, and he knew that the smartest course of action would be to kill Frank. But he couldn't. The thought of killing him right now seemed as abhorrent as killing himself. Completely unthinkable and against all instincts of self preservation. It wasn't like his first boyfriend out of college... Terry. Gerard was starting to realize that he actually  _loved_  Frank. In the way humans loved. 

Maybe it was the thought that he might have cheated. Maybe it was the fact that another vampire had been so close to him, could have taken him away. Maybe it was the fact that it had been  _Charles._  

Whatever the reason, losing Frank was not an option. Ever. By anyone's hand. 

"Frank, I love you. And if you're not comfortable with me anymore, I'll go. I'll leave you alone and never contact you again. But please believe me, I would never, never hurt you. Not ever." 

"I do believe you, Gerard.  I'm just really curious. Confused. I don't remember yesterday. You thought I was screwing around on you, but the minute you got close to me, you broke. Like, you felt hurt. You were going to kill me, weren't you?" 

Gerard hung his head. "I had intended to kill you, yes. I don't know a lot about what I am Frankie. I was so angry, that all I could think was that I had to come claim you. And then you were alone and wouldn't admit that you were with another man all day when I could smell him. And your heart beat was so calm as you denied it. Like it was so easy for you to lie to my face. I was going to bite you. Not like I do when I'm making love to you, I was going to make a big hole and drink you quick. 

Sitting here now, I realize that probably would have killed me." Gerard pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to Frank, who declined. "I saw a bite mark, Frankie. I know you didn't cheat on me. I know you didn't lie, because I saw a bite mark and I realized whose scent it was all over you. You were with another vampire today. He fed from you pretty heavily, that's why you were so tired. He probably erased the memories from the entire day and then sent me that text from your phone." He lit the cigarette, reaching for Frank's ashtray on the bedside table. "I was so stupid to have doubted you. And I almost killed you for it. You should leave me. I don't deserve you." 

Gerard's head was in his hands, his cigarette turning to ash, nearly undrawn. Frank slid around and put his arms around the older man's neck. "I'm not leaving you, you moron. You figured it out. You see your mistake, and maybe I'm stupid, but I trust you. Just... don't lie to me anymore. Don't take my memories. Please. If this is real, let it be real."

If he could have, Gerard would have wept. "I don't fucking deserve you. I didn't even know who you _were_ I just wanted to spend all this time with you and, good god, Frankie, don't take this the wrong way, but you're delicious. The best thing I have ever tasted." He laughed, but Frank didn't.

"Do you feed from other people?"

G's face fell. "Yes."

"Is it... is it like this with all of them?" Frank's voice was shaky. 

"You mean, do I date them? Sleep with them? Fall for them?"

"Yeah. Any of that."

"No. It isn't like that. I used to "date" a lot of women. I would just use them for blood and then make them think we'd had sex. I'm sure you gossiped with the museum staff about them. I have a manwhore reputation. For sex, though, I'm mostly into guys. And typically if I'm with a man, the man ends up dead. I can't even help it. The pull of blood during sex is pretty much irresistible, though I have, occasionally, been with you without feeding. It's hard though," Gerard said. "When you showed up at the Gug that first night, I was supposed to have met a woman for drinks. I would have taken her home, fed, and then sent her on her way, but you were late. I missed her. And I was starving. I could have killed you, Frankie. I had sort of written it off as an inevitability; but there was something different about you. And you were so gorgeous. So I got a snack from the night receptionist and took you out with the goal of keeping you alive in mind." He stubbed out the wasted smoke and turned his body to face his boyfriend, ready to answer any and all questions. 

He was probably going to have to move to another country. Change his name.

No way Frank wasn't running for the hills. 

"After we went out, I was really into you, Frankie. You're just this... amazing guy. But I am what I am, you know? And I was starving. So I had sex with you and I fed from you and it was... indescribable. I knew I had to keep it together because if I killed you, even on accident, I would never get to touch you or taste you, or hear you talk about your guitar again," Gerard told him with a smirk. "I didn't realize I was capable if real love, but I knew that I wanted you around. That I wanted only you. That I wanted you alive for as long as possible."

"And the others you feed from now?" Frank's face was calm, like he knew the answer, or he at least suspected. There was even a hint of a smile. Things might actually be okay, between them.

"I can't feed from just you, Frankie. It would make you sick, weak. I tried for a while, after I was turned, I just fed from my mother and I saw what it did to her. I'm not willing to risk you like that, which seems hypocritical, because I can't stop feeding from you. I craved you. I still do. Right now. It's like... eating my dinner and having a bite of you for desert. I don't mean to demean you, baby. It's just the closest analogy I can make. You're more than food, to me. Other people aren't though. So once a week, I go out of town and... eat. I eat well and then I'm never ravenous when I'm with you. Just an extra precaution. That's it. They're no one; whores and drug dealers and drunks. People no no one will miss, if I go too far."

"Too far. Meaning you kill them." Frank deadpanned.

"Yes."

"That's... heavy, G. I'm a vegetarian... or I was...?" Frank looked up with a question in his eyes.

"Yeah. That was me. It's not a safe diet for someone involved with a vampire. Not enough iron or protein. Not like I could tell you to start a multivitamin or protein shake... I can take that back if you want. Now that you know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have altered something you decided for moral reasons." 

"Yeah," Frank said with a hard nod. "Take that away. Not okay, G. At all." 

Gerard nodded sheepishly, ashamed before laughing a little. "I don't... I don't want you to think I'm a monster, here. But it's kind of amazing. You just made me feel bad for taking away your free will. For doing something immoral. If you were literally anyone else, I wouldn't care. But I'm actually sorry I did that to you. It's like you have this direct line to my soul, or whatever. Kind of freaking me out." 

"I can be your conscience, Gerard. It's not your fault that you lost touch with humanity. Let me help you remember." Frank buried his nose in Gerard's neck. "I love you, G. I'm sorry for the third degree, but you're a fucking  _vampire_  baby."

"I am. But I'm a vampire that loves you. Are you... are we gonna be okay?"

"Do you sparkle?"

"Sonofabitch."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I would like to get to know some of you crazy readers and reviewers. If I made a twitter or a tumblr account for this purpose, wold any of you fuckers follow me? 
> 
> Which?  
> Both?


	12. We'll Shoot Back Holy Water Like Cheap Whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really couldn't help myself.

It went on for hours, and as time wore on, Gerard was more and more at ease talking about himself. 

"How often do you need to feed?"

"Once or twice a week. More is fine, less makes me feel crappy," Gerard responded. 

"Crappy how?"

"My senses get duller. I feel slower. Foggy. "

"Can you fly?"

"No."

"Turn into bats or mist?"

"No and no."

"How fast do you run?"

"Really fucking fast."

"Can you be outside during daylight?"

"Really Frank? How long have we been together?"

"Yeah, okay. Sleep in coffins?"

"See previous answer... You sleep with me."

"So you do sleep?"

"Not as much as when I was human, but yeah, a little."

"Do you, like, watch me while I'm sleeping when I stay over?"

"In the least creepy way possible, yes."

"How old are you?"

"Two thousand three hundred seventy six."

"Whoa! Really?"

"I told you fifteen years, didn't I, Frank? I'm 37." 

"That's much less cool."

"You have some kind of old man fetish I wasn't aware of?" Gerard cocked an eyebrow, and Frank barreled on.

"Can you eat people food?"

"People food, Frank? That's the definition of what I eat. People as food."

"You know what I meant, asshole."

"You should know, I eat that, too," Gerard snickered.

"Oh my god. I need a wooden stake. Stat." 

"Shut up, Frank. Uh... I can eat human food. I do it all the time when I'm out with you or at business meetings. It doesn't do anything for me, though. You could eat sand and still die of malnutrition... among other things, I suppose, but you take my meaning."

"Do you shit?"

"FRANK."

"What?" Frank answered wide-eyed. "It's a valid question, G."

"Yeah, but let's keep some mystery in the relationship. I won't ask about your excrement, you don't ask about mine."

"But you know I  _make_ excrement."

"We're not talking about my shits."

"I'll find out."

"You're foul."

"Garlic?"

"Love it."

"Salt?"

"Bad for your heart, Frankie."

"Running water?"

"Fine."

"Crosses?"

"Still go to Mass with my mom sometimes. Holy water has no effect either. First time I dipped my finger to cross myself I nearly had a panic attack."

"Native soil."

"I'm from Jersey, Frank. I ain't carrying that shit around."

"Fair point... hey, uh... Gerard?"

"No. I really,  _really_  don't sparkle. I can't live on animal blood in a weird, vampiric-vegetarian way. There is no ruling class of Italian vampires that I'm aware of. Your blood doesn't sing to me. I don't give a shit about my, or your, soul. My eyes don't change color.... I think. Oh, and I don't drive a goddamned Volvo."

"That's really a shame. I could tease you for a decade on that alone."

 

 


	13. I'll Never Let Them Hurt You

The sun was rising and Gerard's arms were wrapped around Frank. The shorter man had fallen asleep hours ago, but Gerard couldn't rest.

Charles was here.

And he knew about Frankie.

And how to get to Frankie.

And probably that Gerard loved Frankie.

.... He was so, so, so, so fucked.

But what could he do about it? Demand that Frank quit his job? Never leave his side? That wasn't happening. The thought of Charles wrapping his arms around Frank, lowering his face to Frank's pale neck, his teeth separating skin...

"Ouch! Jesus. Gerard?" Frank was startled into wakefulness by his lover's tightening grip.

"Shit. Sorry."

"You okay?"

"Yeah... No. Not at all. I kind of owe you an explanation."

Frank sat up and rubbed his eyes. "You mind if we do this in the kitchen? I really fucking need coffee."

Gerard nodded and followed his boyfriend into the kitchen. He love the smell of the coffee grounds from the opened canister. He could taste the minerals from the tap water hit the air. Coffee was one thing from his human life that he refused to give up.

Once the machine was set to brew, Frank sat down at his yellow formica table and rested his head in his hands. "So there's more to tell?" Gerard nodded and sat, too. "Yeah. And it's not gonna be stuff you wanna hear, Frankie. I'm sorry." He cleared his throat and began. "When I was in college, I was completely hopeless. I slept with anyone that told me I was hot, and I wasn't. Believe me. Long, oily black hair... chubby. Anyway. There was a little more than two years of me sleeping around and getting way too drunk and being generally pathetic before I met Charles."

Frank picked his head up. "Charles?"

"Yeah. He was funny and smart and sweet. Liked me for more than a quick, drunk lay. He was my boyfriend, Frankie."

"Okay, G. You're allowed to have exes. What's with the drama?"

"He was also my creator."

"Oh..."

"Yeah. We dated for...I don't know... maybe a month, before he told me. Now that? That was a fucked up fairy tale. He changed me. He did it without my consent and kind of blew my fucking mind. There were the promises you'd expect, right? The "now we can be together forever" spiel. I stayed with him for a few months after the change. He taught me what little I do know. How to feed, the Jedi mind trick..."

"Jedi mind trick?"

"Yeah. The way I can make people do or say or believe what I want."

"Oh. 'These are not the droids you're looking for?' What a nerd."

"Yeah. So anyway. He had this motherfucking Brady Bunch idea. That we'd turn a bunch of classmates and make this big family," Gerard continued.

"Like a coven?"

"Now who's a nerd?"

"Shut up and tell your story, G." The coffee maker sputtered and Frank got up to pour mugs for them, sliding the Yoda shaped cup to his boyfriend with a smirk.

"Anyway. Thanks. Uh... So anyway, I wasn't really down with that. Playing mother hen to a bunch of other vamps wasn't really what I wanted to use my immortality for. I wasn't even sure I  _wanted_ immortality at all. So I uh.... I bounced."

"Bounced?"

"Yeah. Stopped returning his calls, transferred schools.... I left, Frank. It was too big. And it seemed dangerous. A bunch of vampires in a college town was like a big arrow. 'COME PITCHFORK US, ANGRY MOBS!' Y'know?"

"Yeah. That makes sense. But why are you telling me this?" Frank was more alert, a few sips of Dark Roast in his system.

"Because Charles hates me. It's apparently really, really bad form to blow off your maker. Like... mortal insult. And Charles was really old school. Hundreds of years old. He'd like nothing more than to haul me back and make me submit... or kill me. It's stupid really. Rules I never really signed up to play by."

"Ah, so you're saying you have enemies."

"We do. Yeah."

"We?"

"A vampire attacked you, Frankie. There aren't as many of us in New York as you'd think."

"So?"

"I recognized the scent because it was Charles. Charles took you to prove he could. He texted me from your phone to make sure I'd find out. Frankie. You're really, really not safe. This is all my fault. But I promise, I'm not going to let him hurt you again. I'll stake the bastard first."

Frank looked up with eyes widened by caffeine, surprise, and a little fear. "Well. Sonofabitch." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made a Twitter. Still sorting it out.
> 
> http://www.Twitter.com/FranklyMisterS


	14. Someone Save My Soul Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. I don't have a beta reader. And I'm too lazy to proofread. So, yeah. Sorry not sorry.

Gerard regarded the creature that was Ray Toro with a guarded expression. Mostly because the man was looking at Gerard like he was some kind of undiscovered species of animal.

"What are you staring at?"

"Don't mean to. It's just... the way Frank talked about you, I thought you'd be taller," Ray said while gathering his things and sliding them into his back pack. "Am I bugging you?"

"Well," Gerard began, sipping his coffee, "I'm just wondering why a man with an afro and in bike shorts has call to stare at anyone." Frank could be heard gagging on laughter in the back and that made G smirk. 

"Fair enough. So how long is your office outta commission, man?" 

That was the lie that they'd spun about why Gerard was using the spare desk at Cellabration for the time being. "I dunno. They've been threatening to remodel for years and I guess they just decided to start on my office." 

"Aren't you in charge, though? Like... the curator? That's the boss, right?"

"No, Ray. I'm an associate curator. There's more than twenty of us, total. Our Chief Curator is nearly sixty five. And she's kind of awesome for an old person. Maybe when she retires or whatever I'll go for that spot, but it's a lot of work, y'know? Plus she's not even the boss. There's a board to answer to, and all that. The Guggenheim is international, too. I'm just one piece of the puzzle." 

"Sounds like kind of a big fucking deal," Ray said, strapping his bag on. 

"I mean, I guess. It's kind of my dream job. For now. Who knows what I'll want in five years? When I first came to New York I was drawing comics. Never know where I'll land. Anyway, thanks for letting me crash on your spare desk, man. I'll be out of your hair." 

"Nah, man. I got enough hair to spare. You don't gotta stay out of it."

"You're really weird."

"You, too." 

"Mmhm." Gerard went back and set his briefcase and laptop down at the spare desk, connecting it to the outlets and plugging in his headset and sketching tablet. 

Frank was at his desk playing solitaire and listening to music through one ear bud. Dispatch and record keeping was boring, he much preferred to be on the bike, but one of the owners needed to be in the office at all times, until they hired a manager, that is. He noticed Gerard setting up and took out his earphone, smiling at the other man. "You gonna sit over there and do artsy shit?"

"Not really. Artsy by proxy, maybe? I have a handful of digital submissions to review. It's this thing we do. Send your art in and I'll tell you about it. It's fucking weird. You gonna sit over there and do messengery shit?" Gerard asked back with a laugh. 

"Yep. Take calls, dispatch bikers, make records, blah blah blah. This is the boring part of my job. I need to hire an office manager. Ray's better at the book keeping and shit, he says that after this quarter we might be able to hire someone at least part time." 

"I should talk to someone at the Gug. Make Cellebration the official citywide messengers for the museum. I always need something run here or there. Too bad you don't do shipping. You know how much I pay to ship paintings and sculptures and shit? A fucking mint." 

"You could do that?" Frank's eyes went wide. 

"I mean, I could talk to someone about it. Helping a local business out and shit. As long as you're good. I've used you guys a few times. You were only late that once and I'm sure as fuck not complaining." Gerard sat down and logged into his computer, remote connecting with the desktop at his office. The nice thing about his job was that he could do it from anywhere most days. Not  _every_ day, but most.  

Frank laughed and twirled around in his swirly chair, but stopping abruptly when the phone rang. "Cellabration Express. Frank speaking." 

Gerard hunkered down with his work, writing up his criticisms of the submissions and then turning to a bunch of paperwork dealing with an artwork loan from a sister museum for the fall's exhibitions. Boring. Boring. But necessary. Hours passed comfortably, though. Frank was close and his scent and voice were reassuring.  Before he knew it, Frank was standing and tapping him on his shoulder.

"Yeah, babe?" Gerard pulled his headset off and looked up at his boyfriend. There was a sudden desire to touch Frank, pull him into his lap. Maybe close was just as distracting as comforting. 

"I'm hungry. It's lunch time."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I'll walk with you to grab something?" Gerard stood and reached for his jacket.

"No...well. Yeah. Yes, please. But also... I have a craving for a cheeseburger." 

Gerard looked at him for a full thirty seconds before it clicked. "Oh...OH! Yeah. Um... is there anyone here?"

"Nope. All cleared out on deliveries and shit." 

"Okay. Come here." Gerard pulled the man closer and kissed his lips. 

"Is the kiss necessary?"

"Nope. Just wanted to. Look at me, babe. In my eyes."

Frank looked up into the vampire's eyes, very trustingly. Good thing Gerard was trustworthy. For the most part... well. Only as far as Frankie was concerned.

"Frank, never mind what I said about vegetarianism. Eat whatever you like. If you wanna be a vegetarian, you do it." Gerard broke his gaze, pulling Frank in for another kiss, making it deeper than the previous one. Frank responded immediately, making that little whimpering moan that drove Gerard insane. "Mmmhmm. We need to feed you before I decide that I'm hungrier for your cock than you are for food. Jesus, how the fuck do you do that?" he laughed and stepped back. "What about now, Frankie? Still craving red meat?" 

Frank blinked a minute, clearing the obviously lust out of his head. "No. I want Chinese food. Ma Po Tofu. And you... G. You can't say shit like that to me. I'll end up bending you over my desk and Ray could walk in and then I'd have to like... share you or something."

Gerard swung an arm across Frank's shoulder and began leading them to the door. "I don't get a say? If Johnny Depp walked in, would you have to share me with  _him_?" 

"No. Maybe Kristin Stewart..."

"One day, Frank Anthony Iero, you're going to realize that I'm a dangerous creature of the night and you shouldn't tease me."

"Never gonna happen, Eddie."

"Okay, Bella. Whatever you say." 

"Oh... fuck you."

"Not until we're married. You're a fragile human, after all. And I'm a self loathing, glittery monster." 

"I hate you so much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless Twitter Plug:   
> Twitter.com/FranklyMisterS
> 
> Come talk to me, readers, writers, and commentators.  
> I promise to only be mildly traumatizing.


	15. ... I Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonofabitch

Six hours later, Gerard had finished everything he'd set out to do for the day. With the the lack of conference calls or other curators barging in, there were also a few pages filled out in an old battered green sketchbook. Profiles of Frank's face and one very graphic depiction of a nude Frank sprawled out on his bed. Gerard thought very seriously about taking a red Copic marker to that one later. 

"Hey, that was the last delivery of the day, and Ray took it. That means I don't have to fucking stay. Can trust him to file receipts and shit in the morning," Frank said standing up and stretching. He got a peek at Gerard's sketchbook and blushed. "Little uh.. generous, don't you think?" 

"No, not really. Think about it, Iero. I'm drawing you from my perspective. It's a whole lot bigger when it's shoved up my ass. Trust me on this."

"You have no filter, do you?"

"None whatsoever." 

The two gathered their things and locked up the building, making their way slowly to Gerard's car. Driving in New York was stupid, for the most part, but this way Frank could pack a couple of bags and leave them in the trunk to take to G's house. No way was the vampire letting his human live alone right now. 

When they were settled into the front seats, Frank spoke up. "It was nice, today, being able to look up and see you whenever I wanted."

"Mmm. Yeah. It was. I also enjoyed the smoke break that turned into a blowjob break in that skanky back alley."

"You and your fucking oral fixations." Frank laughed. "Not that I couldn't get used to you being around every fucking day, but this isn't really a long term solution, is it, baby?" 

"Nope. I'm still thinking about that. I think I'm going to have to kill him, Frankie." 

"Yeah? Are you okay with that?" Frank's voice got small, like he was self conscious.

Gerard's head whipped around, taking in his tone. " _Okay_ with it? Frankie. Yes. I'm motherfucking  _okay_ with it. Let's not even take into account that he made me a vampire without my consent... that's essentially murdering me. But yeah, let's put that aside. He put his hands on  _you_ , Frankie. He touched you. He fed from you. He poked around in your mind, and he taunted me with it. You are  _mine_ Frank. Mine. You're not a goddamned snack bar. You're not a means with which to send me a message. Charles could have shown up at my work or texted me or fucking tweeted me. But no. He decided to fuck with you and you are under my protection. I swear to god if he were here I would rip his fucking head off and shit down his throat." 

"So you do shit."

"Frank. Not now, daddy is a rage monster."

"Daddy kink and Hulk references. What a night."

" _Frank._ " Gerard's head was swimming. He needed to murder something, someone. His knuckles were going white, gripping the steering wheel. "I want Charles dead, Frankie. I want you safe. You're ... you're mine. I don't even know how to explain it." 

Frank seemed to grasp that, for once, Gerard wasn't in the mood to be facetious. "Yes, G. I'm yours. I'm one hundred percent yours." He ran a hand down Gerard's shoulder and caresses the stressed knuckles. Immediately Gerard relaxed. Frank's touch was better than Valium. 

"I just need to find him. As soon as I do, I'm going to kill him and you'll be safe." 

"Can you even do that, G? I mean, he's hundreds of years old, you said. Does that equate to stronger?"

"Not physically, no. But mentally, maybe? I don't really know. He's got the advantage with knowledge, that's for sure. I kind of bailed and haven't met any other vamps in the meantime to teach me the ways of the Force."

"The Force?" 

"Shut up Frankie. I just mean that he knows way more than I do about what I am and what I can do. It's a disadvantage. What I do know is that the more I drink the stronger I am, the better, the faster. So I think I'm going to have to go on a bender. The kind that would make my human vegetarian boyfriend really, really uncomfortable."

"A killing spree?"

"Pretty much."

"How many people?"

"I don't even want to put a number on it, baby. I'm going to start feeding every other day now. Just in case he tries to get the drop on me or you or something. Hell, maybe I should feed everyday." 

"Do you... do you have to kill them?" 

"Not usually. But I think I have to now. The last drop is the most potent. It can really make or break me, strength wise. I don't normally fuss with it... evading detection gets tricky when you leave a trail of corpses, but I don't normally worry about killing vampires eight times my age. I'm sorry, Frankie. We don't have to talk about it in detail, okay?" he added when Frank looked began to look a little green. "Or not at all. I can make you forget about it, even, if you want. But only if you ask me. I'm not mucking about in your head without your permission anymore. Promise."

"No. It's okay. This is what you are and I know you can't help it. I kind of plan on being around for a while so I need to get over it. That's all. Baby? You look kind of fucking scared."

"I'm fine, baby. Nervous, not scared." Gerard was, a little, though. He had no idea what he was up against, sure, but there was something he had no intention of cluing Frank in on. Charles had been pretty clear about hierarchy. The way he knew they would be safe if the vampires they made together went rogue. You can't kill your maker without hurting yourself. The pain was supposed to be the worst an individual could experience, according to Charles. He had said that people didn't usually survive it.That it tore you apart from the inside out.

But the other option was leaving himself vulnerable.

Leaving Frank vulnerable. 

And that was completely unacceptable. 

If his pain... if his death... would keep Frank alive, then that was the price he would pay. 

"I'm going to make you safe again, Frankie. I'm so sorry I dragged you into this shit. I had no idea he was even still looking for me."

"I know, G. It's okay. I don't blame you. We'll figure this out. I love you, you know?" Frank smiled at his lover and stroked the back of his fingers over Gerard's cheek. "You're worth whatever comes our way."

"I love you, too Frankie. You're worth even more. More than you know." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter -> @FranklyMisterS


	16. Someone Call The Nurse.

"I don't fucking care, Frankie. Get whatever you want. You're the one that's gotta use them," Gerard huffed. They'd been in this department store for an hour already and Frank's cart was loaded with silverware and cups and bowls and pots and pans... Gerard didn't care about any of it. Frank was living with him and, sure, that meant that there had to be food in the house, but what was the big deal? 

"C'mon, G. You're an artist. You don't have an opinion about the colors? Shapes? Glosses?" Frank asserted, smiling at his grumpy boyfriend. 

"No. I really don't. It's a plate. You could buy a punch of paper plates for all I care."

"That's just wasteful. Bad for the environment."

"Then pick, baby, so we can go home," Gerard whined. "I thought I was the girly one in this relationship. I dye my hair. I work with art. I bottom. I had no idea you were Suzy-Fucking-Homemaker."

Frank selected a bright blue set and Gerard cringed, unwilling to make a comment though after the fuss he'd made about not caring. "Bottoming doesn't make you girly, Gerard. Besides, you're way more dominant than I am, even when my dick is in your ass," he gave a look around, blushing and realizing that his distracted conversation had suddenly got graphic. "I mean, I bottom, usually. Don't think I've ever topped so much as I do with you." Frank paused a moment and thought about it seriously. "Gerard. I haven't  _ever_ bottomed for you. Not once." 

"Nope," Gerard replied quickly and turned away, pushing Frankie's cart to the check out. Frank caught up with him though and put a hand on his arm. 

"Don't you... uh... I mean. I guess I wonder if you want to?"

"Want to what, baby?" Gerard attempted to look innocent. 

"Don't you ever want to top me?" 

Just the words coming out of Frank's mouth pushed images into his brain of Gerard growling and pinning him against the linoleum floor of the shop they were in; of Frank moaning his name as he tore off their clothes and pushed into the human mercilessly, fucking him and biting him and listening to Frank scream his name in pleasure and overwhelming pain. 

"Frank, I can't talk about this here," was all Gerard said, though. 

"Since when are you shy? You blew me behind a dumpster two days ago," Frank laughed. "Scared the shit out of the Armenian woman who works at the bodega next door."

"Not... shy. Frank. I just... I  _can't,_ " Gerard ground out through gritted teeth and pushed the cart to the registers, unloading it for the sales lady to ring up. Frank wandered to his side a moment later, still quietly wondering what that had been about. 

"$524.97, please. Will you be using your Macy's card?"

Frank pulled out his wallet and started counting out the cash he'd withdrawn for this shopping trip but Gerard was already handing over the red and white plastic card the cashier had mentioned. 

Frank closed his mouth tightly, almost in embarrassment and stood back as the items were bagged and loaded back into their cart. When they were out the door and waiting for a taxi, Frank decided he couldn't be quiet any longer. 

"You know I have money, right?" 

"Well, I didn't think you were doing the messenger thing because you were bored."

"You know what I mean, Gerard. You aren't going to use any of this stuff."

"But it's going in my apartment, I just thought..."

"It's not just this, baby. You haven't let me pay for a single dinner or movie or concert ticket... not once!"

"I let you buy my coffee yesterday."

"That's because you were so focused on your work, you didn't see me get up and go to the counter."

That wasn't true. Gerard had seen. He just didn't realize Frank was going to get  _him_ more coffee. It had been really thoughtful. Coffee. "Look. I don't really think about it. When someone hands me a bill I pay it. I don't do it on purpose, Frankie. It's not like I think you're poor or something."

"I just want to feel like I'm your equal and you footing the bill for every single thing doesn't help."

"Well, we're not fucking equals, Frank."

"Oh..." 

The taxi pulled up and popped the trunk, so Gerard and Frank busied themselves with loading the packages up. When the last bag was in place, Gerard grabbed Frank's arm and spun the man to face him. "We are not equals because you have so much on me. You're the man I can't be without. I count on you, Frank. I'm dependent on you. I need you just as much as I want you and you have every reason to run from me screaming. I am so forever in your debt." He pecked Frankie on the cheek and slammed the trunk shut. 

"You're an idiot." Frank's voice rang out from behind him. 

"Oh?"

"If you think I don't feel the exact same way, you're stupid."

Gerard grinned and opened the door for Frank, pushing him across the bench seat and giving his address to the driver. "Maybe I just need an education."

"Maybe you should pay better attention. I have every reason to run, you said. So think about why I'm not running." Frank grinned and kissed his boyfriend on the lips chastely. 

The cab ride fell into hushed happiness and Gerard grinned until they got home.

 

+++

 

"Frank. Get off of me."

"What? Why? Are you okay?" Frank backed off of Gerard's lap worriedly. They'd been sitting in the living room. G had been sketching and Frank had been fucking around on his guitar when suddenly a glance turned into a wink then into a smirk then into Frank straddling G's legs, laying kisses on his lover's throat. But now Gerard looked pale and his breathing was jagged. Frank was worried.

"M'fine." Gerard got up and almost rushed to the other side of the apartment, pacing.

"Baby, you look like a caged animal. What's up?"

Gerard stopped and looked up at Frank, almost as though he was scared. "I'm hungry."

Frank sagged in relief. "That's all? Jesus man. I thought I hurt you or something. Come on, then. Dinner time. You want my wrist? My neck? .... my thigh?" Frank wiggled his eyebrows.

Gerard's jaw dropped. How could Frank be so cool with this? He took a half step forward and stopped himself. "No, Frank. I haven't eaten in almost a week. I can't feed from you. I can't. Too dangerous. I'm starving. You crawled up into my lap and I smelled you and... oh my god. I almost couldn't pull away."

"A week! Christ Gerard. Why not?!"

"I was a little busy, Frankie. Remember? Not like I can go around the corner and get a sandwich from the deli."

Frank ran his fingers through his hair. He had an idea, and it was one that was kind of going to suck, but he didn't want Gerard to be in pain from the hunger and he didn't want Gerard to accidentally  _kill_ him. "Gerard, lock yourself in the art room. Stick your nose in some turpentine or whatever. Go, now."

"What the fuck? Frank? Why?"

"Just trust me, G. I have an idea."

Gerard nodded in confusion and went into his art room, closing the door. "Okay, weirdo. I'm sniffing Turpentine. It smells horrendous. No wonder this shit is lethal!"

Frank chuckled and went into the kitchen, getting out a glass and one of the new kitchen knives he'd just bought. The things one does for love, he thought as he rolled up his sleeves and drew the knife along the inside of his forearm near the elbow. "Shit."

"You okay, Frankie? I'm getting dizzy sniffing this shit."

"Yeah! Just a moment, okay?"

The cut was deep enough and Frank's blood began to pour out. He caught most of it in the glass. It took longer than he would have guessed to fill it up half way, and he was feeling woozy. He got maybe three ounces into it before he pressed a kitchen towel into the wound to stop the bleeding. Bleeding staunched, he wrapped a clean towel around it and tied it tightly, soaking the sodden cloth in bleach in the sink.

"Gerard! Come out now!"

Gerard appeared in a half a second, staring bug eyed at the glass on the counter and again at Frank. "You didn't..."

"Kind of did. This way you get a snack that'll keep you sane while you look for a bigger meal, and you don't risk draining me."

Gerard was holding his breath, visibly not breathing and choking on his words, "Y-yeah. Or I finish that and smell your open wound and lose my shit and kill you. Frank. Oh my god. I'm afraid to even taste it."

"Well I don't know how this works! I'm trying to be helpful. Just fucking drink it while it's still warm, okay? I trust you. I know you won't hurt me."

Gerard wanted to run away, to go find the first pale throat he could tear into and feed until he wouldn't need to eat again for a week. But it was Frank's blood that he could smell, and it was addictive. Like heroin. G couldn't step away from it. And then Frank picked the glass up and put it in his hands. 

"Drink, baby. It's fine." 

It was a foregone conclusion. Of course Gerard tipped the glass up to his mouth. Embarrassingly, he moaned at the taste of Frank and almost sobbed in gratitude at how willing Frank was to open a vein for him. Too lucky.

And all too soon, the glass was emptied. Gerard was still kind of hungry, but the fire that laced his veins was pleasantly muted and he could think more clearly. Disaster averted.

"Thank you, honey," Gerard said gruffly. "That can't have been easy. I'm fine now, tough. Better. Thank you." Gerard reached for Frank's arm and the other hesitated. "S'okay Frankie. I'm in control now." Frank nodded but let his arm go with reluctance. Gerard removed the makeshift bandage and gently licked the wound until it was sealed, and pressed a kiss to it. 

"Thanks, G," Frank sighed.

"Least I could do, baby."

"How do you do that anyway?" Frank raised an eyebrow. "It's barely even sore, now."

"I dunno the science of it. Vampire thing. Useful, though, right?"

"You need to go out, now, don't you? Feed for real?"

"We do, yeah."

"We?!" Frank's eyes went wide. "I'm not going. Holy shit G. Drinking me is one thing. It's kind of sexy, really. But I'm human and vegetarian and kind of a wuss. I'm not going out and watching you kill people."

"Person. Just one. And yes, you are. I'm not leaving you unguarded Frank. Not until Charles is dealt with."

"I get what you have to do, Gerard, but if someone is going to  _die_ I cannot watch. I can't be apart of it."

"You don't have to watch, baby, but you do have to be near. Please. I can't lose you. I can just bet Charles would wait on the sidelines for me to leave you be before swooping in, if he's gonna. I can't protect you if I don't feed and I can't feed if you won't come with me. C'mon," Gerard coaxed. "It won't be forever. Bring your iPod. Wait in the car. Just be where I can hear and see  _you_. You don't have to see me."

Frank grabbed his jacket, begrudgingly. "Fine. But I won't like it."

"'Course not, baby. But it isn't forever. Just until..."

"I know. Kill him quick, babe."

"Yes sir."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. Sorry this took me a minute. I was busy with work and shit and pondering male prostitution.   
> More soon. Gotta get back to the grind for now, though.  
> Find me on Twitter @FranklyMisterS


	17. Will It Wash Away This Jet Black Feeling?

The bar was loud. Gerard liked it that way. There was no good sound system, just stacks of speakers and the music cranked up enough to distort it. Frankie did not like that, very much. He also didn't like the fact that he had to pretend not to be Gerard's boyfriend. 

"Frank, you can't lean on me like that. Makes it easier if they thing I'm leading them off to get fucked."

"Fucking great. So what, I'm your little brother?" 

"No. You're my... voyeuristic friend? I don't know. You're Frank. They don't know shit. Now shh." 

"Can't you just use your thrall?"

"My.... thrall. Did you really just fucking say that?"

"Your Jedi thing."

"I knew what you meant, baby. But they have to be looking at me first. Sit there. Drink your drink. You'll feel better."

Frank huffed and sipped his Jack and Coke as his boyfriend chatted up some blonde bitch sitting next to him.

"What's your sign?" The blonde asked.

Do people still ask that?!

"Aries," Gerard replied with a smooth smile, tilting up his drink. "That mean something to you?"

"Nah. But you're cute and I needed an opening line. I'm Candy-Lynne."

Gag me with a spoon, Frank thought.

"I'm Seth," Gerard said and Frank scoffed. Not Alfonso? Van Wandeman? Count I'm a Twat-Waffle?

Before ten minutes of  _horrendous_ flirting were wrapped up, she was leading Gerard out the back door, and Gerard had discreetly grabbed Frank's hand, leading him along.  Frank's heartbeat jumped to his throat, and he knew Gerard knew it, too, from the way his boyfriends fingers squeezed his wrist reassuringly. Frank was wishing he'd taken Gerard up on his offer to wait in their parked car in the alley. Gerard had been a little concerned about leaving Frank vulnerable, but agreed to do that, so Frank wouldn't have to see him like this. 

Frank was the one who declined. If Gerard was straining to hear and see Frank parked a ways away, he might be too distracted to keep on alert while so hungry. Also, Frank was scared to be left alone. He didn't tell Gerard that part; he was ashamed. But Charles had gotten to him and taken him away and he hadn't ever  _known_. That was horrifying. 

Frank shook Gerard off of his wrist as they left the bar, trailing behind for a while, at least until Gerard started in on his meal. 

 _A meal._ Frank was trying hard to remind himself that that was what the woman was. Not a woman. Not a friend or a sister or a mother or a daughter. A meal. 

Franks stomach flipped.

Gerard was busying himself trying to dodge his dinner's kisses. She smelled like meth and ashtrays and human piss. Completely unappetizing. He pushed her into the wall, just past the glow of the street lamps and looked into her eyes. "Do not move. Do not scream. Do not be afraid." Candy-Lynne nodded obediently. 

By now, Gerard should have been at her throat. He could tell she was the kind without attachments. She stank of sex from at least three different men in the last two days or so. He couldn't smell any kids on her. Nothing but the mold and mildew and her pathetic living conditions. No one would miss her. But Frank would feel for her for no reason except that she's a human life. So he needed to confirm it all; maybe ease her. Show Frank he could remember humanity. 

"C'mere Frankie. I'm not doing anything yet." His boyfriend crept closer, hesitantly. 

"Yeah, G?" Gerard hushed him, though, looking into his victim's eyes. 

"Candy-Lynne? You're going to answer my questions honestly. Tell the complete truth."

"Yes."

"Do you have any living family?"

"I have a great aunt in Biloxi. She's on her deathbed. Has dementia."

"Have you got a job? Where do you live?"

"I live with Carl. I don't got a job. When we need to make money, I suck his friend's dicks for fifties."

"School?"

"Dropped out in the seventh grade."

"Do you enjoy life?"

"No."

"Have you ever wanted to die?"

"Ye-" She began, but Frank cut in.

"Gerard!"

"No, Frankie. Hush. Candy-Lynne, answer me."

"Yes. There's nothing for me to live for. I figure the meth'll kill me soon. Or Carl will. Can't wait, most days."

"Do you want me to kill you tonight?"

"Yes."

"Thanks Candy-Lynne. Stay still. Quiet."

"Yes."

Gerard turned to Frank. "When I kill people, these are the kind I seek out. The ones that want to die, deep down in their subconscious. I try not to kill often, mostly because bodies pose problems, honestly. When I do kill, when I need to, I try to make it people who want to die. I can't help what I am, Frank. Does this make it easier?" He looked up into Frank's eyes and waited. "Please. I need you to be okay with this. With  _me_."

"I..uh... yeah." Frank was jarred. It made sense and he was proud of Gerard for retaining some semblance of his conscience. He was ashamed for the passing thoughts he'd had about being a monster. It was better than eating steak, even. The cow didn't ask to be slaughtered, this woman was practically begging for it. "I get it, G. I'm okay. And... thank you. Thank you for helping me understand. I guess... you should eat, though. It's late." Frank pecked Gerard's lips and shoved him toward his dinner. 

Gerard was thankful, breathing a sigh of relief. Frank  _understood._ He'd chosen his mate perfectly... His heart thudded. Mate? It was an errant thought, but it sounded so permanent. So perfect. G shook the thought away and turned to his dinner, expecting to see the woman waiting obediently. But what he saw set him weak in the knees. Frank was leaning against the wall beside her, holding her hand in both of his, the pad of his thumb stroking her gritty skin. 

"I'm sorry things have been so hard. I'm sorry you want so much to die, but it's almost time. You don't have to hurt anymore. You don't have to be sad. You believe in heaven? Just picture it. A world of peace. No more pain... there there..." Frank was comforting his victim. "He bites me all the time," Frank continued, tugging the collar of his shirt lower and showing the bite marks. "It doesn't really hurt. It'll be okay real soon. Rest."

Gerard had known that the woman would welcome death, but Frank was making it seem so much more that that. Like Gerard was doing this woman a favor by sending her into eternal rest. Frank made the loss of her life seem like a sad necessity, instead of Gerard needing to satiate a hunger. Frank made the experience much more  _human_. 

Frank Anthony Iero was beautiful, sitting there tear-stained, comforting a broken, depleted woman.

An angel of comfort. 

His Frankie.

His mate.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like comments, sure, but I'm a talker.  
> Follow me on Twitter! -> @FranklyMisterS


	18. You Can Trade Me For An Apparition

"What the fuck are you  _doing?!_ " Frank shoved backward at Gerard, which was admittedly like slamming your palms against a brick wall, because Gerard could be an unmovable object when he wanted to be. Frank was no unstoppable force. 

"What? What do you mean?" Gerard had been smiling a moment ago and now he looked confused. He'd just wanted a kiss.

"Gerard, I just held a woman's hand as you murdered her. As you ate her," Frank began, and G sputtered to interrupt. Before he could, Frank held up his hands in a placating gesture. "And I get it, that's the reality of what you are. I don't blame you for it and it doesn't change that I would walk to the ends of the earth and back for you. Do anything for you."

"Okay then...?"

"And I'm even a little proud of you, because you can't help what you need, but you try to make the most compassionate calls that you can," Frank was like a bullet train. But one with no destination. 

Gerard wouldn't call it compassion. Frank knew that; G never hid his motivations. He didn't kill because bodies meant crime scenes - meant suspects - meant suspicion. He liked to avoid suspicion. The pathetic, more depression prone addicts and waifs had fewer people to miss them. Fewer chances their deaths would be reported in a timely manner. Until Frank, compassion as a reason hadn't crossed his mind. 

"So, you're not angry?" It was a question, there was still a look of "fucking pissed off" splattered across Frank's face.

"Not about you feeding. I'm not even that mad that you slashed her neck all up and put her in the trunk and drove to the Hudson. I'm not mad that you roped a cinderblock to her ankles and dumped her. I get the necessity. It's your world, and it has to be mine, too. By the way, your trunk lined with rubber and plastic? That screams serial killer. Hope you never get pulled over, motherfucker."

"I use my... what did you call it? Thrall? Yeah. I thrall the police officers that pull me over. It's a non-issue."

"Jesus fuck."

"...so what are you mad about Frankie?"

Frank almost stopped being so pissed, just the sound of Gerard's voice made him feel so bad for being so mad. And it was silly. "You kissed me, just now."

"Sorry... what?" Gerard pushed himself back in the drivers seat and looked over at his boyfriend. "I kind of thought being your _boyfriend_ gave me carte blanche to kiss you without having to ask each time... once you put your toothbrush next to mine and use it after frequently sucking my co-"

"Shut up. You can kiss me. I love your kisses. But your breath smells like a dead woman; you have blood caked on your collar and dried onto the corner of your mouth."

"I let you kiss me after that fucking Ma-Po, man. Tofu! Smelly shit."

"Tofu, Gerard. I didn't have drying vampire blood on my face. I didn't have Ma-Po Vampire." Franks voice became flat. 

Ah. Honestly, it wouldn't have disgusted Gerard if he'd eaten a vampire, as funny as it was. He didn't see the vampires as some definitive race or community. He actually had to take a minute and try to think about when he'd been human, how would he have felt about kissing a vampire still bloody from the kill? Human Gerard would have probably been just as into it as Vampire Gerard. Motherfucker was freaky.

But objectively, he could see where Frank was coming from. Instead of starting the car, he took off his black collared shirt and pulled a hoodie from the backseat, tugging it over his head. He opened the glove compartment and extracted a bottle of mouthwash and facial cleansing wipes and set about removing the dried patches of red from his face and hands, as well as rinsing his mouth out multiple times.

"Better Frankie?" Gerard asked as he balled the wipes up in the shirt and tossed them into the back. He'd have to sort it in the morning, couldn't leave bloody clothes and towels in his car. People might get the wrong (right) impression.

Frank nodded. It was. But at the same time, it wasn't. Understanding didn't mean that he could automatically _accept_ it. It would take time. It would take some serious time to be okay with the fact that your boyfriend is a blood sucking monster and frequent murderer of your own species.

It was undeniable, however, that Frank was turned on at the same time. Gerard pulling away from the woman with blood dripping down his chin, like the movies. All feral and sexy and panting. Frank had a disturbing urge to take Gerard just then. Smash his soft human mouth against the gore and fangs. Frank had wanted to see that bloody mouth wrapped around his dick. Frank had wanted to see that feral face pressed against the brick while he pulled Gerard's jeans down and fucked him in the alley, over the woman's corpse. Worse even...

He'd wanted to share the woman with Gerard. To bite or cut and drink with his lover. He craved the intimacy of sharing that meal, that power... the kill.

And Frank was pissed off, because he couldn't reconcile any of those desires, cravings, or needs with his humanity. He'd never been the psychotic murder type before, why now?

"You weren't born a vampire, Gerard."

Gerard's eyebrows knitted together. "Um, no. This is kind of a sudden topic switch. What's...? I mean. Why?"

"Charles, he changed you. You became what you are."

"Yeah, Frankie. I did."

"Change me."

"No." Gerard had been expecting this for a few days, although he didn't expect Frank to be so serious with it. His lover's face was hard as stone while Gerard's softened, denying his request. He expected to be asked in the afterglow of sex or to be asked while Frank scrubbed dishes or watched him prime a canvas. He expected to be asked out of love. 

Gerard had not expected Frank to ask anytime soon after seeing Gerard in action for the first time. He expected Frank to pull back, run away. He thought that that was what was happening when he wasn't allowed to kiss Frank.

"Why not, Gerard?"

"Because you don't want this, not really. You're a vegetarian, Frankie. Even when I don't kill, I still eat. I eat people." Gerard tried to keep his features calm. This could be a discussion. A reasonable discussion.

"I don't eat meat, so I can't be a vampire? I saw what you just did, Gerard. I'm not blinded by my love for you here. As a vampire, I saw you take a compassionate approach, a human approach. I can't ask a cow if it really wants to live before I order a burger; I just saw you prove to me that vampirism has more potential for ethical feeding behavior than omnivorism. And, Gerard, If you change me, I can help you. I won't be as vulnerable to Charles and I can help you kill him. Two against one. Not to mention, I want this. I want the power and the blood and to be able to stay with you forever. Please, G."

"Frank.... I don't want to fight. Can't we just go home? Talk tomorrow?"

"You don't want to change me. Not because you think I'll be morally unequipped to feed, but because you're immortal, isn't it? Yeah. Bet so. You'll keep me around until I stop being good-looking or until you find someone tastier. Then you'll move away and after a few decades, I'll have died. Eliminates the problem of having to avoid your ex. 'Til my death do us part, huh?" Frank didn't believe that, not a word of it. He could see the hurt in Gerard's eyes. But he was hurt, too. He was feeling unwanted; un-special. 

"Frank, you know that's not true. I would fucking die for you. I will be with you until you're an old man and when you die, I'm falling on a goddamned stake."

"Fine, then. You love me and want to be with me. Change me. No one has to die, except your ex. We don't have to die, ever. I want this. I want you. G, please, please change me," Frank was pleading. He didn't want to be weak. He didn't want to be a burden. All Frank wanted was to be an equal partner to Gerard in all ways. 

"Frankie, please. Can I just take us home and we can talk about this tomorrow? It's a big decision and I wish someone had given me a choice. It's painful and maddening, the process. Adjusting is horrific... we can talk about it all if you want. I might not be able to do it right... I might kill you in the process. Let's just get home."

"I'm a sitting duck as a human. Charles has the upper hand. He can use me against you. I'm not willing to be a liability. You change me or we're done. Agree to it now."

"Frank... you don't... I mean. _Done?_ Like.... broken up? Finished?" Gerard's heart was pounding. No... no no no no no no no. Every cell in Gerard's body was screaming at the thought of losing Frank. 

"Yeah, G. I love you, but I can't be a chink in your armor. Let me help you, or at least let me stop being a burden. Or I'll go home."

"So my options are attempt to change you, potentially kill you permanently, and destroy your life... or let you walk out, ripping my heart out and taking it with you, letting yourself be cannon fodder for Charles who will use you or kill you to get to kill me?"

"He might leave me alone if we break up. He only wants me because you love me."

"If you walk away, I'll still love you," Gerard laughed. "This doesn't fucking go  _away_ Frank. I'm fucking in love with you. You're my... ma- you're mine. My forever. You leave and I'll stalk you from fucking rooftops making sure you're okay until you die of organ failure and then I'll die, too. Please. I'm not saying no. I'm saying let's talk about it."

Frank patted his pocket, checking for his wallet and cellphone. "The time for talk is done, babe. The noose is closing, and I don't want your neck in it. Go. Disappear somewhere where he can't find you. He'll leave me be if I'm not yours anymore." Frank pushed open the car door. "I'll walk a ways away and call a cab. Pretend to be drunk and lost." He stepped out of the car and stared at a stunned Gerard. "Love you. Be safe. Don't come back for me."

Frank shut the door with a resolute thud and turned away, blinking the tears from his eyes. If he couldn't be Gerard's equal, he didn't see how he could be his partner. 

So he walked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. That happened. 
> 
> Yeah. 
> 
> Twitter.com/FranklyMisterS


	19. I'll Make You Understand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm switching to Gerard's point of view for this chapter and possibly others. I feel like the bulk the narrative is coming from G anyway.
> 
> Enjoy.  
> Or don't.  
> I'm not your daddy.

I ate three people that night. 

Well, three more. So four? I ate four people. I had driven up the road a little, following Frank for a while. He maybe needed some space or something, but I wasn't about to let Charles have him. Frank walked to a liquor store and went inside, so I parked and followed him in.

Frank purchased a bottle of rye whiskey.

I bought tequila. 

Frank sat on the curb outside of the store and cracked open his bottle, drinking deeply and ignoring my continued presence. I perched inside the driver's seat with my door opens and my feet on the pavement, watching Frankie and working on my own buzz. 

Frank was a few good pulls in. I had drank half of my fifth. It was going on one am and Frank still hadn't called for a cab. 

"You're not going to be able to catch a cab out here this late. We're too far off from the city," I spoke up, finally. "Let me drive you home, babe. I won't even get into bed with you. Just let me get you home safe."

"Nope. I don't want a ride from you."

"Then how are you getting home?" 

"Well," Frank began, standing. "There was another of those dive bars you like so well down this road. I got an hour until last call. I'm sure I can find someone to let me stay in their bed until tomorrow. I can call a cab then." 

"You wouldn't." But I was unsure. Would he? "Not too long ago, you told me how much you love me. That you were leaving so you wouldn't be a burden. You're just going to go hop into someone else's bed?" I wished it was easier for me to catch a buzz. I'd need at least another bottle before I felt shit. 

"I'm drunk and you're stalking me. Turn into a bat and fly the fuck away."

"Goddamnit, Frank," I whined. "You're going to kill me."

"No," Frank said with an oddly sober tone. "I'm going to keep you safe. Get out of here."

Frank began walking and I started my car, intent on following. Mostly, I wanted to keep an eye on him, but part of me wonders if Frank will really do what he said. 

The bar was great for what it was; which was a dump. Frank walked in and didn't even bother with the counter - he was already sauced. I bellied up and ordered six tequila shits and paid in cash. The bartender barley flinched when I shotgunned them. Nice, asshole. 

When I made my way back over to Frank, he was flirting with a pretty brunette. Well. Fuck that. I did a quick look around for cameras, listened for the tell tale sound of fans cooling the hard drives it took to store material. There was nothing, anywhere. I grabbed the girl by the arm and took her outside, ignoring Frank's protests. "Hey! G. She's not... I mean..." I blew him off and snatched a bottle off of the counter as I walked out, dragging the confused woman. 

The back of the bar was lined with dense woods and it was very, very dark. A no neighboring buildings. Wonderful. 

I pressed the girl against the wood and offered her a sip of my bottle, she hesitantly accepted. "Name," I commanded. 

"Jessica," she answered. "And you are?"

Frank was rounding the corner, staring at me, so I lifted the hand I was holding the bottle with and pointed in his direction. "I'm his."

"Gee. Don't," I heard Frank mutter, but I was finally feeling the booze and being in this position made me hungry. Some Pavlovian reaction. My teeth tore at her throat and I dropped the liquor, drinking in all of what I really wanted. When the screaming stopped and she slumped over, unconscious, I pulled away and licked her wound clean. I could hear Frank sigh in relief.

"Looks like she's not fit to drive, Frankie," I laughed, drunk now, on blood and booze.

The next girl Frank tried to pick up was a redhead. I was just as successful at drinking her to the point of passing out. I could do this all night.

It was closing time and I was waiting by the carpark, waiting for Frankie and his conquest. It was a man this time, and they walked toward a black sedan. Frankie was watching over his shoulder, and he looked relieved to see that I wasn't nearby. But I was. I reached out and snatched them both by the wrists and pulled them faster than they could have walked out to the very back. Frank just sat on the grass and watched with fire in his eyes as I laid the man down in the grass, caressing his cheeks and telling him how lucky he was about to get. I fed deeply and the man didn't scream, he moaned. He moaned because I told him to. 

Frankie wanted to see thrall? 

Frank would fucking get thrall. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter.com/FranklyMisterS


	20. We're Hanging Out With Corpses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing on with Gerard's point of view.
> 
> As an aside. I don't have a beta reader and typos are my bread and butter. So. Endure it? I dunno.

It's no lie, I have learned to really love what I am. I'm never going to be that tortured Vampire who starves himself and cries himself to sleep after he breaks down and murders an entire small community.

There was a man writhing and moaning beneath me as I ripped into the skin of his throat, drinking and genuinely enjoying the overly full feeling I was getting and the bits of gore stuck in my teeth. The grass was dry and smelling like it was dying, like fresh hay. The woods to my right were dense and dark and I could hear all kinds of nocturnal creatures going about their search for food and shelter and mates. I heard the bartender slide the deadbolt on the door and pull down the grates to secure the windows. He got into his car and left.

I opened my eyes and looked down, vaguely aware that I wasn't really taking too much. I was already over full. This man was going to make it.

Being what I am made me strong and fast and powerful. I had unparalleled senses and I was acutely aware of every single nuance in my scope.

Except the fact that Frank had gone from watching with wide, horrified eyes, whimpering and pleading with me to kneeling next to me and the man I was drinking from. How had I missed his movement? Drunk. I was fucking blood drunk.

"Gerard?"

I lifted my head and met his eyes, fully aware of the gruesome, dripping mess my mouth was. "Hmm?"

He didn't say anything, so I forced my eyes to focus more on his face, taking in his expression. It wasn't one of disgust or dread or fear... it was that mixture of love and lust that graced his face sometimes in the bedroom. Eyes meant only for me. I was taken aback, though, because I was pretty sure we were fighting at the very least and quite possibly actually "broken up." He had been trying to pick up people at this bar for fucks sake! And I was drinking them in retaliation. So what was with the look on his face that said he just had to fuck me or he was gonna die?

I waited for something. Anything. And I imagined him doing everything from crying about my behavior to slapping me. What finally ended my anticipation was a hard, demanding kiss. Frank was kissing me and the world started to go fuzzy around the edges. I loved this man's mouth, the way his tongue demanded entry and then allowed mine dominance. Frank leaned back a half of a centimeter and moved his tongue down my chin, letting loose the sexiest moan I'd ever heard come from him. Wow.  

"Frank?" I asked hesitantly.

He didn't answer right away, though. He dove back into my mouth for a moment and then made his mouth busy with my throat. 

"Bite the other side of his neck, Gerard," Frank said into my ear while tugging on my hair. 

"What?"

"Just do it. Stop fucking questioning me and just fucking do it."

I turned away from Frank with a confused look on my face and bent back over the man. He was definitely unconscious. Still warm. I bit into his neck and made a small wound opposite the others. I was going slow, unsure why Frank had asked me to do this. I knew the answer when rough hands grabbed at my jeans and tugged them down.

Fuck.

I heard Frank unzip his own pants and the soft sound of sucking. I could picture him wetting his fingers in his mouth and the thought made my dick grow instantaneously hard. Before I could process just how fucked up this was for Frank, he was pressing two digits into me, curling them under and brushing the interior of my ass, finding my prostate. I moaned into my victims skin, no longer concerned with hunger. 

"Frank, Jesus fuck... " I gasped out as he added the third. He was impatient, though, and I was as well. He pulled his fingers from me and leaned around my body, pressing his fingers into the wound I wasn't utilizing. I lifted my head and followed his hand, mesmerized. Was he going to do what I thought he was going to? 

Sure enough, Frank wrapped his bloody hand around his cock and gave it a few strokes, spitting lightly into the palm and adding his saliva into the mix when he realized there wouldn't be enough blood. We'd done this before, but before he knew what I was, and we'd used our own blood. There was no way Frank could know just how hot this was. 

"On your back, Gerard. Now." 

I was in no position to deny him or question him further. I rolled off of the man and onto my back, discarding my pants and underwear immediately. With deft, bloody fingers, Frank lifted my hips and slid our discarded pant underneath me, for better access. My legs rested over his shoulders and I relaxed myself. 

Frank was not relaxed. He nearly growled as he forced himself into me with one hard thrust that actually  _did_ fucking hurt. "Shit!" I exclaimed but I found myself lifting my hips, even through that burst of pain. 

Frank was moaning and mewling and growling at me, moving in a nearly punishing pace. I looked down to see Franks hand prints all over my pale skin. He was marking his territory and, _yes_. I was his.

Our frenzied, drunken sex didn't last very long, though. Our body heat warmed the blood between us and made the smell much stronger, almost sending me over right there.  Frank's left hand was working my cock in tandem with his movements and everything felt perfect. Frank grabbed my hand and inspected it. Apparently, I had been a messy eater. There was blood speared across my fingertips and over my palm. I watched with wide eyes as Frank licked up my palm and over my fingers, pulling the most soiled digit into his mouth and sucking the blood from it.

That was it. I threw my head back in blind ecstasy, nearly screaming Frank's name as I came hard and hot, spilling over his hand and my chest. Sometime when I was finding my way back down to earth, I heard and felt Frank climax, screaming and growling similarly and then collapsing on top of my body, spent. 

"I love you, Gerard," Frank whispered nuzzling into me, ignoring the fact that my shirt was wet and sticky. 

"I love you, too," I murmured. I had so many questions. Frank's moods had sent me into a tailspin and I was beginning to lose track of all direction. I didn't want to ruin this moment of unexpected bliss, but I managed to ask, "Are we okay, then, Frankie? You're not leaving me?"

"I'm a moody jackass and I'm never gonna leave you, you domineering bloodsucker." 

"Oh, okay. Good." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and the like are appreciated. 
> 
> You can and should find me on Twitter @FranklyMisterS


	21. And These Thoughts of Endless Night Bring Us Back Into the Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little longer than my usual updates, but a lot needed to be said.  
> Still Gerard's point of view.

Frank was still not right, though. No matter what he said the night before, I could tell that something was bugging him. He'd left something unsaid. 

We'd gotten home in the wee hours and showered together, surprisingly without any sort of sexual contact. Maybe that wasn't surprising as he was all kinds of fucked out, but I was riding a blood high like you would not believe, and my cock was in a solid state pretty much all night. Frank was also reluctant to accept my affection. In the shower, I'd taken his loofah and scrubbed his back and given him small, soft kisses around his shoulders, just to let him know I loved him and I didn't mind the fact that he wasn't in the mood. At first he'd melted into them, leaning his head back on my shoulder, but then he stiffened and took back the sponge and carried on cleaning himself.

I had asked him what I'd done, and he'd shrugged and scoffed and told me not to worry about it. That he was fine.

Fine, my ass.

He crawled into bed after that, and turned off the light, not even waiting for me. When I slid into bed next to him and wrapped my arms around his middle, he pecked my cheek and disengaged himself from me, turning around and showing me his back. 

Well that was just crystal fucking clear. 

I found that I was too amped to sleep anyway, so I got of of bed and went to my art room, painting until the sun turned the sky over the city a hazy pink. Frank was meant to be on the bike today, and I wasn't looking forward to having to follow him around on those two wheeled death traps all day. Frank had only slept for an hour or so, anyway, maybe I should let him sleep in. 

I snuck into my... our room and grabbed his cell from the charger, disabling the alarm set to go off in about ten minutes. My Frankie needed to rest. I cast a glance to the bed and noticed that he was finally peaceful, despite having tossed and turned initially. This only solidified my decision and I left the room, taking Frank's phone with me. 

A quick search though the contacts led me to Ray's cell phone number. 

"Frankie! Good morning, sunshine! You're up early."

"Hi, Ray. Sorry. It's Gerard," I greeted him awkwardly. "Frank is still sleeping."

"Ah. I was wondering. What's up, G?" 

"You're really fucking perky for six thirty am," I grunted.

"So I've been told. You seem pretty awake yourself, man. Get any sleep?" I could  _hear_ the waggle of his eyebrows, his innuendo clear. 

"Why, yes, Ray. I got a ton of  _sleep_  last night," I replied lacing my voice with suggestive sarcasm. Shit, I thought. Probably best not to imply that I'd been fucking Frank all night when I was calling to get him out of work. 

"So, what's up?" he repeated. "No offense, but you don't call me during waking hours. So if you're calling before  _Frank_ is even awake, something must be going on." 

"Yeah. Frank got sick last night and he just fell asleep about an hour ago. I was wondering if it'd be any trouble to let him sleep it off."

"He got sick  _after_ all this sleeping?" 

"Yeah," I grumbled. I was a fucking idiot.

"And the quality of this sleep, it's not the reason he's ill, is it Gerard?" His tone got harder, very unlike Ray, from what I'd seen. 

"Excuse me?" I pretended to be offended, but I knew where he was going with this, and I respected him for it. He was taking care of Frank in his own, misguided way.

"Look, you're both adults, and what you do in the sack is your business. I get it. But, Gerard I've seen the marks. He can't hide them all; his neck, his wrists, they're scarred, maybe permanently," Ray said. I hoped they would end up permanent. "If it's consensual and you're being safe - then whatever, right? But if it's going so far that you're injuring him badly or making him sick, then I need to say something. Do I need to say something, Gerard?" Ray tried to sound tough and maybe he would have if he hadn't been speaking to a vampire riding a blood high. 

I chuckled. "It's cool, Ray. I'm not shy. You can ask me. Frank and I have kinks, it's not a secret. Things get rough but never in a way that he doesn't want. Or me, for that matter. Your friend can be quite the dom when he wants to be," I added in, hoping to embarrass Ray enough to drop the subject. "We have pretty clear boundaries and the minute either one of us is uncomfortable or unhappy or in too much pain, all we have to do is say so and the other backs off. I would never, ever intentionally harm Frank. You have my word. He really did just get sick. I'm hoping it's not the flu or anything, maybe he's just over tired."

"Ah. Okay. Sorry about the awkward man, but he's kind of like a brother to me. Tell him I said to rest up, we'll do just fine without him for a day or so," Ray replied, the sunshine right back in his voice.

"Thanks, dude. I'll let him know. And by the way? It's pretty cool that you care about him so much. I'm growing fond of the little fucker myself," I chucked in response. 

"Shut the fuck up man, you love him. You guys spent two days in my office, and in that short time, I know you're fucking  _it_ for each other. The moon eyes! It was ridiculous. Just don't fuck on my desk, okay? That's all I ask." Ray was laughing by now.

"No promises. Hey man, I'm gonna go take care of my man. Play nurse and shit. Have a good one. I'll text you my number and you can call me if you need something from Frankie, okay? I don't wanna wake him." 

"Cool. Thanks man. See ya around."

I hung up the phone and texted Ray, as promised. 

I went back into my office and sat at the desk, pushing art supplies and sketches aside to clear some room. I flipped to a clean page in a mixed media pad and took out an HR pencil, lightly sketching out an image of Frank as a vampire. The drawing of Frank barred his teeth at the viewer. His hands were curled into fists and legs were in motion, storming forward, ready to attack. His jeans were ripped and tattoos peaked from the rolled up sleeve of his plaid shirt, pulled over a Misfits tee, the Crimson Ghost peeking up from the folds. I made the drawing huge, filling the paper. It took two hours, forty five minutes of which focused on Frank's expression alone. He would be beautiful as a vampire. Not more than he already, was, but different. It would be exciting and sexy to hunt with him. We could feed together and make love afterwards. We could share every aspect of our lives. 

Frank wouldn't be so breakable. 

I put the nearly finished sketch down and ran my hands through my hair. If I survived killing Charles, I would ask Frank if he still wanted it. But there was no way I was giving Frank immortality to be with me when I wasn't sure I was gonna be around. It wouldn't be fair to Frank, especially since he didn't, and couldn't, know. 

I grunted in frustration and leapt up, still coursing with extra energy. I wish I knew where Charles was right now. Kill him quick and then go in there and make Frank mine like we both wanted him to be. Make him my  _mate_. 

Speaking of the dark haired love of my life, I could hear him stirring in bed, grunting and whining in exhaustion.  Rolling over to try to fall back to sleep. I decided to have mercy on him and go make him some coffee. I left my sketch and went to the kitchen to start the maker, glancing down at my crotch and wondering if making Frank coffee  _and_ pancakes would inspire him to have mercy on _me_. Despite jacking off a dozen times since last night, I was in a near-constant state of arousal. It was becoming inconvenient. 

I set the machine up and grabbed a box of pancake mix from the cupboard and a griddle. With little trouble, I mixed the batter and heated the pan. This couldn't be too hard, could it? Wrong. So fucking wrong. The first batch stuck to the griddle so much that I had had to wash it and dry it before I could try again. This time, I used cooking spray. 

The next batch didn't stick at all. I flipped them as soon as the bubbled popped up and then cooked them until they were brown. When I flipped it onto the plate, batter oozed from a crack in the surface of the thing... Trash. 

Attempt three was more promising, I waited until the bubbles popped and stayed open before I flipped the pancakes, but I had forgotten to turn down the heat, so they were burned. I gathered the ruined discs onto my spatula to take to the trash when I was met face to face with a laughing Frank. 

"You're not supposed to be able to sneak up on me. Stop it," I grumped as I dumped the food. 

"Not my fault you were too busy burning pancakes to notice me," he snickered and came up behind me wrapping his arms around my waist as I sprayed the griddle and dropped three more circles of batter down. He kissed my neck and seamlessly reached around me to adjust the heat and grab the spatula. "When the bubbles pop and the edges are solid and a little crispy, that's when you flip. And don't cook them at 400 degrees or they'll be burned on the outside and raw inside, babe." He was whispering in my ear like he was talking about sex or really nice cars - that kind of awe. I snickered. 

"Sorry, love. I don't eat, so I don't cook." 

"But before the bloodsucking, you made pancakes, right?" He smiled against my skin as he flipped the pancakes. 

"Nah. Mama's boy. When I was at college I lived on granola bars and take out." 

Frank laughed at that. "Mama's little blood thirsty fiend. So why are you cooking now, Gerard?"

"Because you're hungry," I said softly. He was being so affectionate. Could I dare to think the awkwardness and sadness of last night was over? 

"Mmm," was his response. He put the pancakes onto a plate and backed up, so I took a moment to pour him some coffee and take the Morningstar sausages out of the dinging microwave. 

"You went all out, baby!" he laughed as he sat down and dug in. 

I smirked and sat down across from him, drinking my own coffee and wiping away at graphite smudges on my arm. "Hey, the coffee pot and the microwave I can handle. Everything else is fuckin' Russian roulette."

He was quiet for a few moments as he chewed, just sort of staring at me. When he spoke, he spoke softly, almost like he was afraid of pissing me off. "I need to call Ray. I'm so late." 

"Nah, baby. I called him early. Told him you were ill. He said they'd survive for a day or so. He also warned me to be careful. He noticed the bites." I chuckled darkly as Frank blushed. 

"Oh my god. He said that?!"

"Oh yeah, he was quite concerned that our kinks might be the cause of your illness."

Frank's head hit the table and he groaned. "I'm going to rip off his afro and choke him with it. Motherfucker!"

I laughed deeply and reached over to stroke Frank's hair. "He's worried about you. That's nice. Means he cares."

"I guess," Frank muttered against the wood. He reached up and grabbed my hand, though kissing the palm and noticed the smudges. "Graphite, not paint. You were sketching this morning. Did you sleep any?"

"Ah, no," I admitted looking down. I didn't want to mention last night, the subject was weird and potentially painful, but he'd asked. "I'm still really wired from last night. Feel like I could bench press a Mack truck." 

Frank didn't seem to mind though. "Oh. Well. Can I see what you were working on then?" he asked brightly.

I shook my head. "Not yet, Frankie, it's a secret. Wait until it's finished?"

"Okay, babe," he said frowning. He was silent for another moment before he blurted out, "I wasn't planning on fucking anyone last night."

I lifted my eyebrows. "Oh?"

"I wanted to make you jealous," he admitted, flushing. "I was hoping you'd see what a catch I was and agree to change me. To keep me with you. It was stupid and cruel and manipulative. I was drunk and stupid, but that's not an excuse. I'm sorry, G. I love you."

"M'not mad, Frank. I was worried. I thought you hated me. And you wouldn't let me hold you last night, so I thought there might still be a problem. I love you, too Frankie. We're fine. I'm sorry too."

"I didn't feel like I deserved to be comforted by you, that's all." Frank pushed his nearly empty plate away. "I was such an asshole."

"I was, too," I said.

"So we're good?" Frankie asked me, eyes alight. 

"We're perfect," I responded, pulling his chair around the side of the table, startling him. "Always gonna be perfect." 

He kissed me, then, and I melted into it. Thank god. Finally things felt like we were back on an even keel. I picked him up and settled him into my lap and he gasped.

"Is that for me?"

I laughed. "Frankie. I have been so hard all night... " I whined. "I keep jacking off and it keeps popping back up."

"You want some help with that?" he asked from underneath hooded eyes.

"Oh my god I'm going to fucking marry you."

Frank laughed and got up, grabbing my hand and leading me to the bedroom. "What if I'm not the marrying kind."

"There's always compulsion."

"You asshole."

"You can have my asshole."

"I fully intend to." 

 


	22. You Can't Touch My Brother, and You Won't Keep My Friends

“Will you shut the fuck up, Ray? You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Frank’s voice rose and I suddenly became interested in the conversation he was having with Ray in the back room of Cellabration Express. I quickly and quietly moved to stand beside the door, paying attention to both ends of the conversation.

Vampire hearing was awesome.

“It’s not normal Frank,” Ray was pressing. “He follows you everywhere. And when he’s not here, you’re following him. You two don’t spend any time apart. That’s not healthy.”

 

“So what? Ever heard of a honeymoon period? New love, motherfucker. I just want him around all the time so I can make moon eyes and suck his dick whenever I want.”

I wished I could see Ray’s face. Holding back my laughter was hard, but I had to. I didn’t want Ray to know I was listening. Frank probably knew. Or he should have known.

“Frank. Stop being an asshole. I’m worried about you. Were those iron supplements I saw you taking this morning? Since when! You’re always covered in cuts and bruises and shit and his skin is clear as day. Is he abusing you? You need to tell me. You need to get away from him. He’s controlling you, isn’t he? Not letting you out of his sight and hurting you.”

Ray was too observant. I couldn’t hold my growl in, but it was low enough that he couldn’t hear. I got the concern, of course, but Ray had the wrong idea. I was gorging myself on blood lately, gearing up for when Charles finally made his presence known, and as a result, I was extra aggressive. The animalistic side of me seemed to have lain claim on Frank. He was mine. Mine. And telling Frank to leave me for any reason wasn’t doing anything to calm the urge to murder Ray in his place of business

Frank was laughing and that helped a little. He wasn’t going to give any credence to his friend. “Gerard’s skin is clear because the pain kink is mine you nosy asshole,” Frank said. Lies, of course. He cut me up just as bad or worse, the difference was that my skin healed without a mark, and my saliva closed Frank’s wounds, but the scars healed normally… and the bites bruised. “I like to be hurt when we’re fucking, Ray. I like to bleed. Is that what you needed to know?”

I heard Ray gulp and the blood rush to his face. Blushing.

“And he doesn’t control me. I control him. I’m the dominant one in this relationship,” Frank continued, lying. My skin prickled at that, but I realized the necessity for the lie. I would just have to drag Frank off later and show him just how submissive I wasn’t. “I make him bite me until I bruise. I hand him a blade and tell him where to cut during foreplay so that my blood drips onto his chest when I have his legs over my shoulders and my dick in his a--”

“Enough, Frank! Jesus. I get it,” Ray interrupted. And it was a good thing, too. I was getting seriously turned on. “I’m sorry, okay? I just worry about you. You’re taking so much time off lately and spending every moment with someone new. You can’t blame me. You’re like my fucking brother, dude”

I heard Frank laugh and the rustle of clothes as Frank slung an arm around Ray.

“It’s cool, man. It’s just none of your business, you know? The injuries are a sex thing. I don’t bug you about your sex-life.”

“Got it,” Ray answered. “You’re happy, right?”

“So happy,” Frank gushed. “I love him. I love him so much.”

**  
**  


Feet were shuffling against carpet. They were coming back out into the main office. I sped to my chair and but my headset on, pretending to reply to an email as they came out.

Frank walked up behind me and pressed a kiss to my cheek, removing part of my headphone and barely whispering, “I know you were listening, motherfucker. Get any ideas?”

Ray didn’t hear Frank’s words but rolled his eyes and walked away when I turned in my chair to kiss Frank’s mouth chastely. “Sure did, Sir. You gonna take control tonight? Use me up good? Maybe over my dinner?” Frank had been following me out to feed every single time since the first, and it almost always ended up with him taking me during or directly after my meal. Turns out my cute little vegetarian had quite the vampire fetish. I couldn’t wait until I could offer to change him. I knew he still wanted and I holy shit I did, too. As soon as it was safe.

“Don’t I always, baby?” Frank chuckled and backed away, going back to his desk and answering the ringing phone.

“Ray! Pickup!” he called as soon as he hung up. “Last of the day! Address in your texts.”

I laughed and started gathering my things as Frank closed up shop. My phone rang and I checked the called-ID. Mikey.

“Hey Mikes!”

There was no response. “Mikey?”

Nothing.

“Michael?”

Again, nothing. I ended the call and looked up at my boyfriend. “Huh. Guess he doesn’t have much reception.” I shrugged.

Frank and I locked up and swung by his favorite Thai restaurant to grab dinner on our way back to my place. When we got there, I set my things down and pulled Frank into my arms, kissing him hungrily.

“Fucking stop, G!” Frank giggled, pushing me away. “Lemme eat before it gets cold, okay? I need my strength if I’m going to brutally dominate you while you try to keep the presence of mind to eat your dinner.”

I grumped and nipped his neck playfully. “Fine. Eat. Hate for you to pass out while you’re in side of me.” He laughed and pushed me. My phone rang again.

“Michael?”

There was nothing, again, except faint static. I strained my already amazing ears, but I couldn’t even hear breathing. Another dropped call. “Fucking T-Mobile, Mikes. If you can hear me, call me when you have better reception, bro!” I hung up and set my phone down on the coffee table, dropping onto the couch and grabbing my sketchbook from my bag.

The phone rang again

“Jesus fuck, Mikey. Just call me later?!”

“Special Delivery, Gee, baby. Hope you like it,” Charles voice responded.

Cold rage flooded my chest.

“Fucker. Where is my brother?! Where’s Mikey?!” I growled, shooting to my feet. How did it not occur to me to protect my brother? I was so busy with Frank, I didn’t even consider that Charles could know about Mikey.

Frank was walking toward me from the kitchen with a curious look on his face.

“We’ll discuss your brother later, sweetheart. Your present is about to be delivered.” He chuckled and disconnected.

There was a knock on the door, then and I looked up just to see Frank reaching for the doorknob to open it on his was to check on me.

“Frank. Shit!”

My vampire speed couldn’t even get me there in the nano second it took Frank to open the door.

 

****  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay in posting. I was feeling uninspired. But I'm back in SYYTMH mode, now. Enjoy.
> 
> Comment?
> 
> Follow? -> @FranklyMisterS on Twitter


	23. And If They Come and Get Me, What If You Put the Spike In My Heart?

I had always found the phrase "time stood still" to be cliched and annoying as fuck. I've lived more than your average thirty-something year old man, and I think that's pretty evident in and of the simple fact that I've been a vampire for the last fifteen years that I've experienced a wide range of human and non-human things; from the banalities of humanity such as puberty, dating, and college to the more specialized sort of experiences like my murder and conversion to vampirism, bloodlust and becoming a murderer myself, being shot, stabbed, and otherwise assaulted, and finally meeting and falling for a goddamned human, of all things. Through all of that, through the pain and the boredom and the irony and the shock... never once had there been a moment for me when time stood still. 

And maybe that still wasn't applicable. Time was standing still for _me_ definitely, but in general? .... maybe time was speeding up. As fast as I could run, it seemed to take minutes instead of nanoseconds for me to reach Frank as he swung the door open. It seemed to take nanoseconds instead of moments for Frank to open the door. I threw myself between my boyfriend and whatever threat could be beyond the threshold. I was prepared. I would fight and kill and  _die_ to keep Frank safe. My teeth were bared and my voice was a growl as I commanded Frank away from the door. He complied, out of shock, I think, and I faced our assailant. 

And as soon as I did, my guard was down. It wasn't Charles or one of his offspring, here to hurt us. It wasn't a delivery man with a box of my brother's severed body parts. It wasn't a bomb or an assassin or a fucking Jehovah's Witness. 

"M..Mikey?" I breathed. It looked like my brother, but it didn't smell like him. The man in front of me, though, he didn't smell like he  _wasn't_ Mikey, either. He was off. Different. He was also crying. 

"Gerard... I'm sorry. I didn't know he was taking me here..." My brother wasn't one to show a lot of emotion, ever, but he was weeping. Openly crying. "I'm sorry." 

"He, who, Mikes? Jesus come in." I reached out and took my brother's arm, pulling him into my arms, into a hug. Mikey was weak. He could barely stand which I found out when I pulled back a moment to look at his face. My brother crumpled to the floor. 

Frank gasped and surged forward, clearly seeing that there was no danger from my brother. "G... what happened? Is he okay? Shit." Frank closed the door and then knelt down next to us. 

I shook my head and took in the sight of my baby brother. He was pale; so very, very pale. And his breathing was labored. I pressed my fingers firmly against his skin and noted that the white imprints remained long after I removed the digits. He wasn't anemic... this wasn't normal. With a sinking suspicion, I unzipped the neck of my brother's jacket. 

"Are those....? fuck..." Frank breathed. "Did that Charles guy bite Mikey? That's a vampire bite, right?" Frank sounded uncertain and I couldn't blame him for that; it didn't look like the bites I left on any of my victims or the bites I left on Frankie. This was vicious... He wasn't bitten so much as torn. 

And what's more, Michael was nearly exsanguinated. 

I felt like crying. "Mikey, sweetheart, what happened?" I hadn't used such saccharine terms of endearment for my brother since he was very young, but it was fitting now. 

"I'm sorry, G. I met this guy at a show upstate. He said he was with our label and there was shit we needed to discuss on my contract and ...shit man... he had like an ID and everything. One minute we were in the back of his car, talking and the next, I was in front of your building with that guy... that VAMPIRE... at my neck. It hurt. Gerard," he faltered. He was crying again and I think my heart was breaking. I wasn't heartless, I was complacent. I was learning that with the way I loved Frank. And now I was relearning grief. Mikey was scared and in pain and dying. 

And it was my fault. 

All of this was my fucking fault. I could have stayed with Charles all those years ago. I could have left more cordially. I could have done maybe a dozen other things differently, including to  _think_ about checking on my family,  _protecting_ them when I knew Charles was around; but I was short sighted. I thought only of myself and Frank and keeping us together.

Mikey was paying for this. Frank would likely soon, as well. 

And I was completely to blame for the only things I loved being destroyed. I hated myself. 

Frank was crouched behind me, now, holding my shoulder and reaching for Mikey's hand. My beautiful angel of death. My love. My lover, my mate... he was comforting us; tears streaming down his own face. "That fucking  _bastard,"_ Frank was muttering. I couldn't agree more. 

"I'll kill him, Mike. Baby brother, Charles is going to  _die_ for this," I swore. I didn't care anymore if it killed me. I didn't care if it sent me to hell a thousand times over. I was going to murder my sire. And I was going to do it  _happily_.

"He said," Mikey began, but coughed. He coughed up blood. He had so little of that left, it didn't even smell like blood. Just fluids. "He said to remind you why you can't kill him, G. He said to tell you that he fucking owns you and nothing will ever change that." 

"What does he mean? Why can't you kill him, baby?" Frank was curious, but I didn't have time to answer questions I never wanted to answer at all. I turned for half a second and buried my head in Frank's shoulder. 

"Mikey's dying Frankie. He fucking drained him... I'm not ready for this. I'm not... how do I let my brother die?" My heart was breaking, Mikey in my lap, now and Frankie wrapped around me. I didn't think I would survive losing him like this. My fault...this was all my fault.

"Gerard, we don't always get a choice, you know. You're not letting him die, he was murdered, you know? You're not doing  _anything."_ Frank's eyes were sympathetic and wide... he didn't mean to, I think, but he gave me an idea.

"I'm not doing  _nothing,_ either." I tried to think back, remembering what I could about the process, but I was already beginning. I used my thumb nail to open a wound on my wrist and I shoved the bleeding thing onto my brother's mouth, forcing his lips apart, rubbing his throat to help him swallow. 

"The fuck...?" Frank said as Mikey gagged on my blood. 

"I'm gonna try, Frank. The process might kill him, but I'm going to fucking try. He's dead anyway." I forced more and more of it down Mikey's throat, and the more he swallowed, the more enthusiastic he became, in time taking my wrist and drinking deeply. "That's it Mikey. I've got you. Drink up, okay?" 

"You're changing him?" Frank sounded both shocked and sad. "You're not going to even  _ask_ him?"

"Fuck.... shit..." I looked up at Frank, shocked. For the span of minutes, I sat there with my brother drinking from my wrist and staring stupidly at my mate. "I didn't think..." Mikey was done, it seemed, and I was a little dizzy. He'd taken a lot, but I wanted Mike to have every advantage he could, if he was gonna change. "I didn't think, Frankie... he's... he's dying and I couldn't do  _nothing."_

Frank kissed my cheek and nodded. "I get it...it's just... wow. You were pissed that you were changed without consent."

"I wasn't dying... I don't know. I don't know Frank." I didn't. I barely knew anything.

+++

 

Two hours later, Mikey was sleeping on the couch and I was having a snack from Frank; too scared to go out and feed and too weak to do without, from feeding my brother. When I was done, I kissed the closed wounds on Frank's neck and thanked him, and he picked up his guitar, strumming a soft melody I didn't know.

"This is what Charles wanted, you know. He sent your brother to you dying, not dead. He wanted you to have to change Mike," Frank said bluntly.

My eyes widened. That made too much sense for comfort, but I countered anyway. "It was probably just to send a message."

"He could have pinned a note to his shirt and left him on our doorway... he wanted Mikey to be changed."

Frank was right. "You're some kind of tactician..." I quirked my lip, but nothing was funny right now. My brother was either dying or changing, Charles was closer than ever, and I was spent. "But why? Why would he want me to have an ally? No way Mikes doesn't take my side on this."

"How're you feeling?" Frank said with a raised eyebrow.

"Fine, really." I shook my head. I was... I was okay. "It took everything I had when Mike fed from me like that, but I was stocked up and blood high from the frequent feedings and shit... Your blood is great though, baby. A little from you and I'm back to old Gerard."

"Listen to what you just said, baby, and you'll find Charles' new advantage."

It took me a minute, but then I caught on. I was no longer super-vamp. All the bingeing on blood was wasted now, I was operating on the same frequencies as before. No extra energy, no even-sharper senses, no even-speedier speed. Just same old vampire Gerard. 

"Well. Fuck." 

"Yeah," Frank said and continued to strum. "Dude must be a  _really_ good tactician."

"Fuck."

"You said that."

"I know...  _fuck."_

"Gerard? What did Mikey mean about Charles reminding you that you can't kill him? Why does he think you can't?"

".... _fuck."_

_"Gerard!"_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.... 
> 
> fuck.
> 
>  
> 
> Follow me on Twitter @FranklyMisterS


	24. And Riding in this Hearse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not even a little sorry.

Mikey died at four that morning. 

I knew he was gone before Frank did, even though he was sitting right next to my brother, mopping his sweat away and making comforting, cooing noises. I heard Mikey's heart slow and stop; I heard the rattle of his chest as his last breath pushed from his lungs and the organs never filled again. There was a slow scent of methane as the muscles in my brother's body relaxed for the last time. Any content of his bowels would be released. If I pulled back the skin of his eyelids, the eyes beneath would be fixed and unresponsive. The blood in his body was no longer being propelled through the veins and gravity would soon drag the liquid to pool behind the flesh of his back. Sometime after that, rigor mortis would set in, and decomposition would begin in earnest. He'd start to smell awful and lose mass, literally shrinking into himself and all manner of disgusting liquids would ooze from him. 

_Mikey died at four that morning._

I wracked my brain for memories. Had I ever officially died? I knew I lost consciousness for a while after I transitioned. I remember feeling tired and sick and weak, but I didn't remember dying. Minutes later, Mikey was still dead. How long could a brain survive without oxygen? Blood flow? Surely not the three minutes I'd been staring at my baby brother, willing what I knew to be true to be false. There was no way he could wake up now, not and be okay, right? Did the laws of nature actually apply here? 

_Mikey died at four that morning._

I told Frank at four oh five. I didn't so much say it as wrap my arms around my mate and cry out against his shoulder. Frank looked scared as he reached for Mikey's wrist to feel for a pulse. I shook my head, knowing the what the results of Frank's frantic search would be. 

"Oh my god. Gerard... Is this supposed to happen? It is, right? I mean, you die and then you come back a vampire. You've done this." Frank was rambling worse than I usually did. 

"I don't know... I don't remember. I was passed out for a lot of it and..." I was gasping for breath. I hadn't really cried since my change, I didn't think it was possible, physically, but I felt the warm tears drip down my cheeks. One more thing I had been wrong about. "I'm gonna kill him, Frankie. I'm gonna rip his throat out with my teeth and pull his heart out and crush it on the pavement in front of him."

_Mikey died at four that morning._

Frank wrapped his arms around me and I sat against him, crying and holding my brother's hand. I was extremely comforted by Frank's presence. It was like he took the edge off of the pain I was feeling, like a pill. He was beautiful and strong and I was so grateful for him. He didn't speak much, he just laid soft kisses on my shoulder and neck and cooed comforting things into my ear. His hands were tight around my body and I felt like they were holding me together, all in one piece. I felt like if he wasn't there, I would be a howling, raging mess. Frank brought me to earth. I leaned into him more, grabbing his arm with my free hand. 

_Mikey died at four that morning._

I needed to call my mother. To call an ambulance. To clean this up. To... do something. Dealing with a death was something I was used to, I supposed; but this was  _Michael._ I wasn't going to douse him in bleach or toss him in a river. Mikey needed a funeral and remembrance. He wasn't some destitute addict in an ally... this was my baby brother. I had watched him grow up; we'd grown up  _together_. He wasn't much younger than I was, and I supposed he was older, in a sense. I'd stopped aging fifteen years ago. 

"What now, Frank? Call an ambulance? The police?" I was pulling myself together, trying to plan my next move. I only knew how to go forward, and I needed to get to the part where I laid Charles out, nice and bloody like. 

_Mikey died at four that morning._

"I don't know, Gerard. I was a kid when my dad died. That's the only experience I have with that... Maybe just start with 911. Are you sure he's not waking up?" Frank never let go of me, and that was good. I still felt a little untethered. I'm sure it would only get worse as they loaded Mikey up onto a stretcher in a body bag... He was already so much paler than he had been even half an hour ago. His lips were going blue. 

"I need a wash cloth and some water," I said as I stood. I went to the kitchen and brought back a large glass of water, a towel, and a bowl. I sat on the floor and pulled my brother's body down onto my lap, carefully resting his head in my lap and opening his mouth, tipping the water into it, making sure to not use so much that it filled his lungs if I got the angle wrong. It seemed, though, that his throat was either closed. The water pooled in the top of his mouth and I quickly swiped the thin towel around as best as I could, eliminating the dried bits of my blood stuck to his teeth. I rolled him over then, keeping his mouth open, and over the bowl, letting the brownish fluid drip into the container. 

What would I do if they swabbed his mouth or explored his stomach contents and found that he ate my blood before he died? would they even be able to tell? I didn't even know my own genetic makeup. This was impossible. The marks on his neck... they would think we were weirdos. Too-close brothers with a vampire fetish. Ridiculous... and I would be charged with manslaughter. Accidental exsanguination. Looked like Frankie and I were going on the run. For the murder of my baby brother. That had probably been part of the plan. 

_Mikey died at four that morning._

I washed my brother's face. I kissed his forehead. I stood back up, and placed my brother on the couch. He felt limp in my arms; like a rag doll. My tears were back again. I would have done anything for his snarky shit remarks. I wanted him to roll his eyes and call me fag or Edward or some other ridiculous insult. I wanted my brother back. And I knew I was never going to get him. 

I took Frank's hand and lifted him from where he was sitting and watching me sadly. I pulled him toward my kitchen where I started on coffee. I worked mechanically, not thinking about the individual steps, just making my hands do  _something_. I probably couldn't stomach it, but it would be there, if Frank needed some. His hands were on me still; like he refused to give up comforting me. I flipped the start switch and then leaned back into my boyfriend. "I'm so glad you're here, Frank. I don't know what I would do without you right now."

He kissed my neck, again. "Always gonna be here, babe. I'm with you, forever, okay? I'm so sorry about Mikey. Want me to make the call, babe? I can imagine you don't want to deal with people. Maybe you should leave, even. I can say I was here alone, at my boyfriend's apartment when his brother showed up sick and..." 

He trailed off as I shook my head. I didn't know what I wanted to do, but leaving Frankie wasn't in the cards. I didn't trust myself yet. I turned in his arms and embraced him. "I love you, you know that? Frank... you're... you're mine." I wanted to call him my mate. I didn't even know where that word had come from, really. I just sort of felt it. It seemed more definite, more permanent than boyfriend. It also seemed scarier, commitment wise. 

"Of course I'm yours. And you're mine. My Gerard. My Vampire. My One. Love you, too." He placed a kiss on my lips. There was nothing of desire or passion in it. Just affection and comfort. Love. 

"Listen, if you guys are gonna like... make out or whatever, can you do it later? I feel like my fucking lungs are on fire. Why is it so hard to  _breathe?_ " 

My head snapped up at the voice, " _Michael!"_

_Mikey died at four that morning._

_And he came back just before five._

Frank took a sideways step, his jaw dropping for a moment before a smile overtook his face. I was already rushing forward to hug my brother. "Oh my god.  _Michael James Way if you ever do that to me again I will fucking kill you."_  

Mikey hugged me back, patting my shoulder. "I thought I died, man. Holy shit. I think I need a hospital, though. I feel weird. Like... thirsty and hungry and like... shake at the same time. Get me a glass of water? Maybe I need a transfusion. That dude drank a _lot_  from me."

"You did. You  _died_ Mikey."

Mike didn't have time to question me, though. Frank had been sitting idly by, grinning, but he came up then to pull us both into a bear hug. It was sweet and made me feel warm with affection for my boyfriend for a split second before I realized it was a horrible fucking idea for my human boyfriend to hug my newly-made vampire brother. 

Mikey's mouth was on Frank's neck in half second. 

"Ow, fuck! Mikey!" My mate's voice was sharp. He was in pain, and there was another man at his throat, it didn't matter that it was my brother or my progeny. I forced me into action.

It actually took some strength to get Mikey off of Frank. He was nearly as strong as me and starving. I was also a little afraid that if I pulled to hard, Mikey would clamp down instinctually and take a chunk of Frank's throat when I pulled him back. After about thirty seconds, which was thirty too long for me, I pried Mikey off and threw him to the side, he stumbled into a support column beside the kitchen and wiped his mouth, his head clearing. 

"Did I just...?" He began, but I was ignoring him.

"Frankie, baby. I'm sorry." I ran my fingertips over the bloody wound. "It's deep. He's new, I'm sorry. He doesn't know how to make it not hurt yet." I licked the blood from my fingers and shuddered at the taste as I reached under the sink for the first aid kit. "Michael. Go into my art room. Smell the turpentine. Yes I'm serious. Go. Now." My voice was hard and cold, but I couldn't help it. He hurt Frank. 

"S'okay, Mikey!" Frank called after him. "I'm not mad. I know you're confused. Let me get cleaned up and we'll talk." 

Mikey nodded sadly, already putting the pieces together, surely. 

"He didn't take much, G," Frank told me. "Hurts like a bitch, but not from blood loss. While I have this nice open wound, why don't you like, hold me over a glass?" He laughed and didn't wait for my response, grabbing a coffee mug from the counter and collecting some of the blood that was oozing, and spurting from his wound. 

"You're incredible, you know that Frank?" I smiled at him. "My brother attacks you, and you want to feed him anyway. He better not get used to it though. Mine. This is a once off. I'm a little... uh.. territorial."

Frank filled the mug up more than I should have let him, but Mikey would literally be starving. Frank could stand to lose a little extra if I refused to bite him for a few days, and forced him to eat more. By the time I stopped him, he had slumped into a kitchen chair, but he was smiling, through the pain. I bit my own wrist and held it to his lips. 

"You need more than my saliva, baby. He ripped you up good." He latched onto my wrist and drank as I took the coffee mug from him and lapped the blood from his throat, not wanting to waste it on a bunch of antiseptic and gauze. I felt the wound close under my tongue and when I pulled away, the skin was taut and pink and wet from my spit. Huh, cool.

Frank's eyes were wide. "Why do you not do that more often?" 

"I don't know how this mystical shit works half the time. Never got a crash course and I didn't stay with my sire long enough to learn everything, on account of him being crazy. I didn't know that would work until I  _knew_.... does that make sense? I just knew that my blood would help. You feel okay?"

"I'm not even dizzy. Holy shit. You should market that stuff." Frank was nodding and he leaned up to kiss me. "Call Mikey in." 

"Mikey. Get back in here!" I called out, pecking my boyfriend's lips again.

He walked in slowly, unsure of his own movements. I remembered those days. "I'm really sorry, Frank. I didn't mean to... I can't even begin to..." 

Frank cut him off with a wave. "Stop. It's fine. I feed Gerard all the time, it's just usually a lot less painful. Just don't do it again. Gerard gets a little possessive. he has to restrain himself from ripping my friend Ray's arms off when he _hugs_ me for more than a nanosecond. This speaks highly of the brotherly bond. You're not dead." 

"Truth," I said with a smirk. "You're mine, Iero. I don't share well." I grabbed the mug, it was still warm. "But this is an emergency. Frankie was kind enough to get you some to go, Mikes. Drink up." 

Mikey took the cup and drank eagerly. "Thank you," he said to Frank more than me, wiping his mouth with his hand and then licking the traces of blood left  _there._  

"You okay now, Mikey?" Frank asked softly, standing to approach him. 

"I'm better, yeah. Still kind of hungry, but not like... starving." He patted Frank's back awkwardly. They barely knew each other, it was awkward and funny to see them interact so closely. "So, you turned me." My brother directed the question at me.

"Yeah. I'm sorry I didn't ask first, Mikes, but you were dying. Charles fucking drained you and... I didn't know what else to do..." I stammered. I didn't need my brother to hate me right now, and I knew how I felt when I was changed without my consent. I had felt murdered. 

"S'okay, bro. I get it. I would have done the same, I think. So... thank you?" He came toward me and hugged me tight. "Who is Charles?"

"...Oh fuck." 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. That was fun.
> 
> Find me on Twitter! -> @FranklyMisterS


	25. Before you got off the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Jatty and Jordan. 
> 
> Jatty for being a pillar of encouragement and love and strength for me when shit starts to REALLY suck. She's the best internet wife ever. 
> 
> Jordan for being my new best friend! His encouragement and enthusiasm brings you this mini-chapter tonight. Hopefully it'll act as a warm-up to get me back into writing.

As much fun as it was explaining to my brother about my college boyfriend and the fact that he'd essentially murdered me and forced me into vampirism  _was_ , I was glad when the story was over and I could lean against Frank, seeking the comfort he brought me. Better than valium, seriously. Something about Frank's presence allowed my mind to slow down long enough to  _think_. He was my security blanket, in a way. How was it that I had only known him for a few short months? 

The sun had come up and we'd sat around in my living room, pointedly ignoring blood stains, and were talking about nothing. Frank and Mikey were both soccer fans, and they were discussing something I didn't really understand... or want to. I was leaned against Frank and drawing in my sketchbook; looming eyes in the dark sort of doodles. I looked up when Mikey began laughing. 

"What?" I asked.

"You two. You're like... fucking  _cute,"_ he said. 

"Thanks?" Frank intoned. 

"Yeah. I mean... Thanks?" I repeated. 

"No. It's just... you've known each other for less than six months and you're so comfortable. Did you even notice the way Gee smiles up at you when you laugh, Frank? Or the way Frank cards his fingers through your hair while you're drawing?" 

I blushed. "I hadn't really noticed, no. I just... I like him close." I said, turning my face down. Frank was chuckling and kissing my hair. The truth is, I knew something serious was happening between Frank and I. I needed him near me. It wasn't just that I was scared of what would happen if I left him alone while Charles was alive... I needed him. Going down to check the mail made me nervous, antsy. I was seriously possessive, too. Frank hadn't been kidding about me feeling like ripping Ray to shreds more than once for friendly, hell, fucking  _brotherly_ gestures. I wracked my brain more than once for anything useful in the information Charles had given me about my new state of being. The way I felt connected to Frank was supernatural. Like the thought of being away from him was worse than the thought of being cut off from any kind of blood supply indefinitely. I couldn't count on anything from Charles to be accurate and unskewed anyway, could I? He'd been trying to keep me with him at all costs toward the end; who knew what kind of lies he mixed in with the truth? 

I wanted to spend the rest of forever with Frank. I knew I would want him when his body started aging and dying. I would want him long, long after his death. His death... it would surely cause my own. The thought of it made my heart clench painfully.  _Frankie_. 

Unthinkingly, I grabbed his hand and brought it around my waist. He was close, but I needed him to be closer. It had been a stressful night, and morning, and I was exhausted. 

"Mikey, in all seriousness, you and I... we need to go hunting, as soon as Frank has had enough sleep," I told my brother. "If we're going to get rid of my maker, we need to beef up and quick. Changing you sort of took a lot out of me. He might be planning to use this time to strike. While you're new and I'm weakened." 

"Should we really wait then, baby?" Frank asked. "I mean. If it's dangerous now, in the daylight, won't it be infinitely more-so tonight, when you're both weaker and more...uh... volatile?" He said the last with an apologetic look at Mikey, who magnanimously shrugged it off. 

 I smiled back gratefully at Frank. "You don't mind? You must be wiped."

He smiled at me and kissed my cheek. "Nah. You made coffee, I'll put it in the to go mug and we can just go. I may not have it in me to be as... active?... as I usually am while you're hunting, but somehow I think your brother would prefer that."

"Ugh. Gross," Mikey spewed with an upturned nose. I smiled at him and then up at my boyfriend, happy that they were getting along so well already, given the morning's circumstances and their initial meeting. 

"You're stuck with it, Mikey. You'll need to stick around me at least until I teach you to feed and blend in and use your new skills. That means moving in with your faggy big brother, his boyfriend, and the  _piles_ of cute and PDA that come with it. Man up," I said with a laugh. 

Mikey threw a pillow at my head, but he was chuckling as he did so. 

"So, hunting 101?" He asked when we calmed down. 

"Yep." I pushed away from Frank gently and he went to the kitchen, to make his coffee to go. I ducked into our room - ours. Huh. I marveled at how quickly that was becoming natural. - and changed into dark colored clothing, grabbing a black tee-shirt for my brother as well. 

When I emerged, Mikey was standing by the big window behind our couch, holding the curtains back and shoving his arm into a beam of sunlight. Frank was peering over his shoulder interestedly, sipping his coffee. They both looked like they were waiting for the results of some test. It took me all of four seconds to catch up. 

"Seriously? How long have you fuckers known me?" I dragged Mikey out of the window. "Can't stand there. All open and shit. Jesus. We're under  _attack._ " I then popped my brother across the back of the head with a light  _thwack_. "And you, Frankie. Jesus. You have seen every inch of my skin in every kind of light... if anyone knew about vampires sparkling, it would be you."

"Gross."

"Get over it, Mikey." Frank and I said in stereo. 

He laughed and shot us his middle finger. "I'm hungry, Gee. Let's go get breakfast!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is almost pathetically short. I apologize.  
> I've been very, very ill and hospitalized for the last two weeks of July as a result. Now that I'm home, I'm easing back into my daily life, and that means writing! 
> 
> Thank you for your continuing patience.  
> If you've been impatient... well, fuck you, too? My heath takes precedence. 
> 
> Follow me on twitter at @FranklyMisterS


	26. Oh, How Wrong We Were to Think that Immortality Meant Never Dying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Frank's Point of View this time.

This was a bad, bad idea. I was being selfish and stupid again, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.

The hunting had gone well; flawlessly, actually. Both Gerard and Mikey stuffed themselves silly. The Hudson had four more corpses added to the several dozen Gerard had laid to rest there over the years and the boys were full and happy.

My boyfriend’s face held something like peace for the rest of the evening. It was a look I’d missed on him. He was no longer weakened from changing his brother and it seemed to occur to him that he would have some help protecting me and killing Charles. Mikey had gone as far as to verbally confirm it as we were getting ready to go to bed.

He pulled Gerard aside and looked him in the eyes and thanked him for saving his life. “You know I’m with you on this, brother. Whatever we have to do to make you and Frank safe again, I’m in.” There were tears in Gee’s eyes as he nodded and pulled Mikey in for a tight hug. I watched the exchange with a mixture of love and jealousy. Mikey could turn and feed and help and I couldn’t? I wasn’t a damsel in fucking distress. I had a right to protect myself.

I tried not to think about it too much when Gerard lead me into our room and laid me back against the pillows, kissing me happily.

“Thank you, Frankie. For helping me today, for sitting with me when Mikey was dying and taking care of me and him and just… thank you. I love you so much.” His lips danced on my neck and down toward my collarbones. I couldn’t stop the low moans coming through now, my irritation was pushed to the back of my mind as my body responded to Gerard.

My body _always_ responded to Gerard.

It was like a chemical connection. Something about him that I physically needed and craved. Stronger than any cigarette or caffeine addiction. Gerard was like a siren. One look; a smile, a chuckle, a twinkle of his eyes and I was like putty. Maybe that was part of the vampirism, but I highly doubted it. If anyone he’d ever been with felt like this, they would never have left his side, even when dumped. Unless he killed them.

My brain didn’t really want to go there right then. He’d said he wanted to keep my feelings real; that he’d never influence them. I trusted him.

“I love you, too, Gerard,” I breathed. I could feel him smirk against my skin and he broke contact for a second to undress me, and himself, with unnatural speed. Moments later, our bare bodies collided on the bed again and he was cruising downward. I wasn’t surprised when Gee took my cock into his mouth, giving it the attention he knew I adored. His mouth was pure, unadulterated, sin. I writhed beneath my lover, my hands clenched his hair and I tried to keep my hips from bucking up into his face. I knew he didn’t mind when I fucked his mouth, but what he was doing would feel better anyway.

He pulled off for a moment and I felt a sharp sting on his favorite, most tender, spot on my inner thigh. He took a mouthful with a moan before closing the wound and returning to my dick. He’d been less than careful, I could see the red across his cheeks and marring the pale skin on and above his lips as he swallowed me down again. I tugged his hair.

“Gerard…. Gee…. baby. Fuck me.” He looked up at me with a grin and moved to the bedside table to grab some lube. I dragged him back as soon as he had it in hand so that I could kiss his bloody lips, the slight taste of my precome mixed in with the heady copper of the blood. While he was kissing me, he grabbed two of my fingers and squeezed a line of the lubrication jelly onto them. Of course he expected me to top.

And it wasn’t like I minded. I loved fucking him. There was a sense of power, there. I made him pant and moan and buck underneath me and I knew that no one else had ever made him feel that good.

I wanted something different tonight. I wanted to feel owned and like my pleasure was beyond my control. I wanted to be taken care of and full. I wanted to feel full of him. So I picked myself up and broke the kiss, pushing him back gently so I could switch positions and lift my knees up toward my chest. With my slicked up hand, I gently started to stretch myself open, my eyes on Gerard’s the whole time.

He seemed to be in some kind of stupor. There was a whining noise coming from his throat and he looked almost desperate to fuck me. Good.

The burn was more intense than I had remembered. I hadn’t bottomed since beginning to see Gerard, and before him, I hadn’t been with a guy in almost a year. Still, I found that it wasn’t too long before I could slip the second digit in and scissor them, stretching myself nicely. When I was relaxed, I curled my fingers up and hit my prostate one time, my legs nearly went to jelly with the sudden flash of pleasure. I was ready.

I cleaned my fingers on some tissue and then grabbed the lube up, approaching my, still mesmerized looking, boyfriend. With quick movements, I pushed him to sit against the headboard and slicked him up. I kissed him mouth again before I lifted my hips over him and started to sink down onto his dick, which looked painfully erect.

He was no more than an inch or so in when he seemed to snap out of his stupor. He looked at me, horrified, and pushed me off more forcefully than he usually handled me. When I regained my bearings and looked up to see what the fuck was wrong with him, he was curled up and nearly sobbing.

“I can’t… Frankie. I can’t.”

“You can’t what? Fuck me? Why the hell not?”

“People I fuck don’t really survive. It’s why I always bottom for you… I want you to stay alive,” he said weakly.

“But you’re full, Gerard. You’re not even hungry,” I was confused. Why was this such an issue?

“It’s not about the hunger, Frank. It’s… it’s like instinct. I can’t even help it. When I’m fucking someone, I bite and bite hard. I don’t think I’ve ever let go until I was done, and they were dead.” Gerard scrubbed his hand over his eyes and I crawled up to sit beside him. “I want you, Frankie… I want to take you and ride you so hard that you’re a squirming, come-covered mess… but I know I can’t. I can’t resist biting you when we’re together, even when I’m full. If I was inside you… and I killed you? … I would die. I can’t… I just can’t…”

I gathered the other man into my arms and kissed his hair. “I understand, baby. I’m sorry for pushing.” I held him like that for a little while until he calmed down.

**  
**  


We did end up making love that night, a few times, after he’d calmed down. He loved me so much and I knew my heart beat just for him. These limitations were frustrating, though, and to my eyes, they’d seemed unnecessary. He’d proven with his brother that he could, indeed change someone. In my mind, the sooner I was turned, the better. I could go out with Gee and Mikey and we could all bulk up on blood, and then we’d be a united force. I could protect myself and protect my lover. My new family.

So my stupid, selfish decision was made. Gerard wasn’t going to change me of his own volition, and I felt like the most manipulative, pathetic boyfriend in the world, but this was for the best. I was going to have to force his hand.

That was how I found myself in Gerard’s studio while he was distracted with Mikey, playing MarioKart. I smiled at him as I walked in and shut and locked the door. I kicked over the rest of the jug of turpentine and hoped that he wouldn’t get suspicious about the smell. I hoped he wouldn’t notice until I needed him to. He would eventually catch the scent I needed him to. His body was so tuned into it. At least I hoped so.

Standing behind the growing puddle, I found one of his exacto knives and slashed both of my wrists before I could lose my nerve or before the pain from the first cut could deter the second. The amount of blood I was losing shocked even me, but I knew I needed to be nearly dead in order for Gerard to change me. I didn’t realized I had fallen down, but I was on the floor when I knew I had to amp up my game. I had seconds before Gerard would notice me, so I jammed the sharp end of the tool into the base of my throat, on the right side.

The pain was almost blinding. My vision swam from that combined with the extreme blood loss. I knew I was gonna pass out soon. Reaching up, I weakly flailed and managed to knock a few metal coffee cans holding brushes to the floor, loudly.

The world went dark, but there was a rush of cool air as the studio door opened. “Don’t… wanna die. Really.” I rasped out. Everything hurt. I probably should have found a better way to do this, but Mikey had almost died of exsanguination, and for all I knew, that was a requirement. I dared not deviate from the few things I knew to be true.

My head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds as I felt myself lifted into strong, familiar arms. I could feel drops of water hitting my face; Gerard’s tears. I was such an asshole. I hoped he wasn’t too late. That I wasn’t wrong. I hoped he’d have eternity to forgive me.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Twitter. --> @FranklyMisterS
> 
> Sorry, not sorry?


	27. We'll Solve The Mystery Of Laceration Gravity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Gerard's POV. Frank is kind of out of it right now...

There was too much damage; I didn’t know if Frank could be healed. And what had he meant by saying that he hadn’t really wanted to die? Those deep cuts, what else could have possibly been his goal? When Mikey entered the room, a split second behind me, I realized the connection Frank had made. He wanted me to change him into a vampire.

                  
Without much hesitation, I grabbed Mikey’s wrist and dug a nail into it, deeply, and held it out over Frank’s mouth. He hissed in pain at first but then I could see his brain catch up to my actions, and my brother put his finger into my boyfriend’s mouth and tugged his lips farther apart so more blood could flow in as I viciously tore into my own wrist with my teeth.

 

“Baby, drink. Please.” I massaged Frank’s throat as my blood mingled with Mike’s and pooled in the back of Frank’s throat. I could hear his heart still, though faintly, so I couldn’t give up hope. I adjusted Frank’s head again, tipping it back more, before going back to bleeding into his mouth and rubbing his esophagus, desperately trying to force the muscles to open up and allow our blood into his system.

Slowly but surely, I noticed that the pool of blood in his mouth was being slowing drained into his throat. Moments later, Frank’s throat began working on its own and he latched onto me, sucking the blood from the small wound. It was working. Frank was healing. Frustrated with the slow progress, I drew a nail along the major artery in my neck and forced Frankie to move to the new site, allowing him to draw in larger mouthfuls.

Sighing, Mikey stood and cradled his healed wrist. “Where’s your phone, man?”

“By my bed, but don’t call an ambulance. He’ll be okay.”

“Not for him, for us. You never undid the compulsion on your list of bloodwhores, did you? If I sent a text to a half dozen of them, they’d show? We can’t leave the house this drained, man. We need to bulk up before we can go hunting again and Frank’s not going to be able to bleed into a shot glass for us right now.”

“You’re fucking brilliant, Mikey. They’re all still compelled. Get a few over here, two at a time? I can tweak the suggestion to include you. I’m gonna set Frank up in our room while he sleeps this off. We can use your room, okay?” I lifted Frank in my arms, he was still suckling weakly, but his heartbeat was steady and his wounds were all healed. He was just going to need a nice long nap.

“Use my room for _what_? The term bloodwhore is tongue-in-cheek right? You’re still gay. You’re still in love with Frank. I’m not comfortable with being an accessory to adultery here. I really like Frank.”

My first instinct was to punish Michael for insinuating I would ever cheat on Frank. It was as though he was telling me I was an inadequate mate, and I already felt that way for letting Frank get himself into this position in the first place. I didn’t know where all of these weird, commitment driven instincts were coming from, but I assumed it was a vampire thing. My vampire instincts had always kept me alive in the past, so there had to be some weird metaphysical truth to this one as well. It made me both excited and nervous about what that meant for me and Frank. We felt so… permanent. I could tell down to my blood that he was mine and I was his and I would die before anything bad could ever happen to him.

My second instinct was to feel pride in Michael for wanting to protect my Frankie, even from me. And that came with a completely new set of questions. Was I Michael’s creator? I wasn’t sure. It takes two things to make a vampire; blood and venom. You have to die of a vampire bite, and be healing from vampire blood when the death happens. It’s why I wasn’t sure I could change Mikey. He was dying of a bite: Charles’.  But my blood was what I used to heal him. Did that make me his creator or Charles? Was putting him on the frontline with me when we fought my creator putting him in the same danger as me. If he struck the final blow, would it kill him as well as Charles? I had too many questions that I couldn’t answer. The pride I felt in Mikey and the urge to protect and educate him could be coming from being his big brother as much as being his creator, right? It felt different, though. Primal on the same level as this _mating_ thing with Frank felt. I wished there was another vampire I could ask; one that wasn’t trying to kill me for a slight I’d made against him in motherfucking _college_.

 In the end, I shook my head sadly and replied, “Not for sex, Mike. I’m not interested in anyone for that other than Frank, regardless of their gender. We need to set the stage though. These women believe they’re coming over for a booty call. They need a place to ‘wake up’. Clothes and hair in disarray, pleasantly exhausted. Then they get in a cab and go home, and we call the next pair over.” By the time I’d finished explaining, Michael was grinning.

“But if I were to have sex with one of them…?”

“Up to you man. I don’t pretend to know where that shit falls on the vampire morality scale. I have no problem with it in theory, but I’ve never needed compulsion to get laid. Being a vampire makes you instantly attractive to most people. Pheromones or something. Helps us lure in prey. But if you find you need one of my hypnotized bitches to get your dick wet, I can take my dinner into another room. Some shit I don’t need to see, no matter how long I live.” I turned and walked away, Frank in my arms, enjoying the look on Mike’s face that told me he wasn’t quite sure if he’d been insulted or not.

I laid my boyfriend down on our bed, reassured by his steady breathing and heartbeat. In a flash, I realized that I was not only relieved, but also angry. Frank hadn’t trusted me enough to talk about him being changed. He’d made stupid assumptions based on what he _thought_ he knew and he’d almost died for it. I was mad at him. I was mad at myself, too. Maybe I could have told Frank the reason I was hesitant to change him so soon. I knew he would have talked me into it if I had, but would that have been so bad? Was it really my place to deny him immortality on the basis that he might have to live it without _me_? How vain could I possibly be? How territorial. How essentially _jealous?_ I needed to think about what was going to happen next. I also needed to feed. It would do me no good to bulk up, if I had to keep opening veins to bring people I loved back from the dead.


	28. "Trust", you said, "Who put the words in your head?"

When I awakened, I was aware of a number of things. The sun had gone down recently; the sky was a deep blue faded with blacks and greys that could only really mean twilight. I was incredibly sore, which I supposed was on par for the course. I never expected this to be easy or painless. The room I was in was vacant except for myself. I was in the bed I had grown accustomed to sharing with Gerard, even when he found he didn’t need to sleep. I found that he hadn’t even mussed the covers on his side of the bed, and my heart sank a little. He hadn’t been sitting with me, waiting for me to rise from the dead, ready to share his immortal life.

 

The last thing that I realized was that I was still very much alive. In the human sense. He hadn’t changed me.

 

Well. That was clear as day, wasn’t it? He wasn’t interested in sharing his immortal life with me. I had almost given him _no_ choice except to turn me and he’d found a way not to do it at all. Maybe he really did love me, but didn’t want to love me for the rest of his life. Only for the rest of mine. He should have just let me die, then.  That would have been preferable to waking up unwanted.

 

I got up and left my room, finding Mikey exiting the guest room, his room, now, and looking a little grossed out. When his eyes found mine, I could see surprise in them. He hadn’t expected me to be awake so early, probably. I was about to open my mouth to ask after Gerard, but I heard his laugh coming from the door Mikey had just closed. His laugh followed by a decidedly feminine, flirty laugh. Mikey came toward me quickly, obviously intent on stopping me from going forward, past him and into the room. I moved just out of his freakishly quick reach and made it through the door before he’d realized I’d thought to move. Baby vampire, still overthinking every twist of his body. None of that effortless grace Gerard possessed.

 

When I opened the door, though, to confront my boyfriend, I wished fervently that I had let Mikey stop me. I wished I hadn’t woken up at all. Gerard was feeding. He wasn’t feeding in the ways I had witnessed, though. He was sitting on Mikey’s bed, his back against the wall with a woman in his lap, looking dazed and blissed out. She was half naked, the only clothing I could see was a skirt and a bra, but the skirt was rucked up for me to know that she was wearing a very thin thong, if any panties at all.

 

With the way her clouded eyes screamed _just fucked_. I was willing to bet on the latter.

 

I stood frozen, despite Mikey’s gentle hand on my shoulder and whispers in my ear about him explaining everything in the next room. What possible explanation could there be? I wasn’t interested.

 

Gerard noticed us as soon as I’d walked in and he stared into my eyes, as frozen as I was. I could see his brain scrambling for words, I didn’t know if I wanted to hear the resulting excuses.

 

“Frank… I… was hungry. This isn’t…” he started to explain. The slut in his lap wasn’t having any of that. When he addressed me, her eyes cleared a bit and she sat up straighter, smiling.

 

“Another friend of yours, baby? Is he gonna come play with us, too?” she asked sweetly, smiling at me. The girl was clearly already suffering from blood loss and orgasm. I knew the feeling, but it didn’t make me sympathetic toward her, or the man I’d nearly killed myself in order to be with forever.

 

“I’m afraid I’m done playing,” I said coldly, not looking away from Gerard’s wide, now scared, eyes. “You have fun though. While you last.” I took another deep breath and bit my lip in thought. Every part of me wanted to cry and scream and throw a hissy fit. Beg Gerard to make excuses for me to believe. Beg him to say he loved me. I wanted him to lie if he needed to, just make the hurt go away. But I knew I couldn’t. I knew _he_ couldn’t. “You should have let me die. I should have realized you could be this cruel with me. You are, after all, a fucking monster.”

 

With Gerard speechless in the first time I could recall, and his whore looking confused on his lap, brushed Mikey away and went into my room, locking the door so I could weep while I packed.

 

An hour later, I had packed my clothes and important items in two duffle bags and both Gerard and Mikey knocked several times. Gerard going as far as to cry out and beg me to let him explain, swearing he hadn’t had sex with the girl or even kissed her. I shook my head, biting back my reply that that wasn’t what it looked like, with her eyes glazed over and her panties missing.

 

I didn’t answer them. I let them knock and plead without so much as a “fuck off” in response. I could hear Gerard sniffing by the door, no doubt smelling for blood signaling another suicide attempt.

 

“I can hear him breathing. I can hear his heart beating. He’s okay, Gee. Just upset. When he calms down, you can explain to him. I can explain…” Mikey was trying to comfort his brother.

 

I opened the window and stepped out onto the fire escape to light a cigarette and breathe in some fresh air. “Frank?!” I could hear my worried boyfriend (exboyfriend?) call out. Within moments, the living room window opened and he stuck his head out to see me.

 

“Thought you were gonna jump or something…” he said sheepishly. “Frank… I didn’t fuck her. Mikey did. And then when I came in to feed, she crawled in my lap. I made her put at least a bra back on, but I didn’t realize she wasn’t wearing underwear. . . I swear. Frankie. You’re it for me. You’re my mate.”

 

It made sense. And it would account for Mikey’s guilty expression peeking out from behind Gerard’s sad and worried one. But still…

 

“Then why am I still human?” I had to ask. If I was _it_ for him, why wasn’t I good enough to be like him? “Does it turn you on to be biologically superior to me? Or are you just going to trade up in a few years when I’m dead?”

 

Mikey’s head disappeared back inside, his part of the confirmation complete. With a blink of my eye, Gerard was out of the window and on the fire escape with me. “Because you need vampire venom in you to change. Mikey was exsanguinated because a vampire bit him and drank long enough to cause him to die. That left a lot of Charles in his system, when I replaced his lost blood with some of mine, the vampire venom and blood worked together to change him. It won’t work with one or the other, otherwise there would be a lot more vampires. I wasn’t even sure it would work for Mikey. He was so close to death that he probably couldn’t have swallowed a lot of my blood, enough to heal. And I had no idea how long Charles’s mouth was on Mikey’s wound… if there would be enough venom. You…. I had time to give you more blood. Your wounds were fresh and you were still somewhat responsive when I fed you. To change you, I would have had to bite you and drink from you, and then you would die before you could drink enough of my blood to change… I didn’t have a choice, baby.” He looked genuinely sorry. “I _do_ want you to become a vampire, eventually, if you still want to. But there are things we need to talk about first. I was gonna wait until this bullshit was over but… I guess now is as good as ever.”

 

He scratched his head and gave an awkward, hopeful smile. “Okay, Gee. We can talk. As long as you weren’t fucking cheating on me.”

 

“I swear. Besides, Frank. I’m as gay as the day is long, you know this. The day you find a naked man curled up in my lap looking well fucked, then you can hate me. That chick being on the edge was of Mikey’s doing.” He laughed and rubbed his small nose. “And if I NEVER walk in on that again, I’ll be a happy motherfucker.”

 

I laughed, too, feeling a little ridiculous, but happy that it seemed Gerard was still faithful and in love with me. “What’s this _mate_ shit, anyway?” I asked curiously. He’d said it with the same emotional weight as “spouse” or even “ _husband_.”

 

He looked a little embarrassed, but also overwhelmingly happy. “We can talk about that, too if you want. Come inside, Sugar.”

 

“Okay, baby. Gimme a second to finish this,” I waved the hand with my cigarette in it, “and I’ll be in. I love you.”

 

He smiled at me. “I love you more, Frankie.” His window closed and I took another, long drag on the almost wasted smoke, happy that we were finally going to _talk_ about this shit. I bit back my grin and tossed the butt aside, turning to go back through the bedroom window.

 

And that’s the last thing I remember before my vision went dark.


	29. Someone Burned the Church

There was a pile of bodies at my feet, and I couldn't be bothered to care about the value of the lives I was taking or the fear of being caught anymore. Mikey watched me, sadly, as I finished off the last of my meal and he tugged my arm gently toward the river where our speed boat was docked, waiting for us. Mikey pushed me inside and loosed the ropes holding us in place before starting the engine. I looked behind me sadly as the marina, now blood stained, faded into the pre-dawn distance and my stomach clenched. What would Frank think of me now? If I managed to find him alive and whole and bring him home, what would my lover say?

He'd hate me. He'd be disgusted at the means I employed to strengthen myself to get him back. I wished I could stop, but I was incapable of doing so. Not even for a day. Not even for more than a few hours. He'd hate me; but he'd be alive to do so. I'd hoped. 

I'd been on Frank's trail for three months now, and the only thing keeping me going was the sure clench in my gut that told me Frank, my  _mate_ , was still alive and in trouble. Three months was a long time to follow anyone, though, and the trail was growing weaker and weaker each day. The note I had gotten just days after Frank's disappearance was written in Frank's own, steady, hand. I had been in my living room, sulking and certain that Frank really _had_ just left. His bags _were_ gone. I'd been by Ray's and was told that Frank called in and quit and that if I saw the little fucker, to tell him Ray said 'fucking thanks, asshole.' Frank's apartment was as untouched as the day I'd moved Frank out and into mine. Not even his mother had seen him. The fact that he'd called and left a message on Ray's machine, quitting, at least lead me to believe Frank hadn't been taken by Charles, he'd just given up on me and left. 

But that didn't make it safe. Without me there, Frank was in more danger from my maker than ever. I couldn't just let him  _go._ I promised him I would always protect him, even if he no longer loved me and that was a promise I intended to keep. 

The note, though, that spurred me into motion. It came via postal service and had no return address. The letter smelled like Frank's tears. And his blood. The page itself was swirled with doodles and drawings also done by Frank. The content was heartbreaking. 

_Gerard,_

_I'm sorry I left so suddenly, I hope you understand. I do love you, and I always will, but I can't stay just knowing that you only want me for a limited time. I understand. Of course I do, but this is your reality, and not mine. In my reality, looking at your beautiful face every day and waiting for mine to become wrinkled and tired with time, only to have you move on after my death or worse... before it... would be nothing less than torture. My heart aches just writing the words, much less living them. So I'm going. I know this couldn't possibly come at a worse time; so soon after Mike's death, but I can see no advantage for us to fall more in love to have it end in heartbreak. I'm already too attached.  I'll always love you, Gerard, and I do believe that you love me, in your way. Don't look for me. You won't find me as easily as the first time I ran. You called me Angel that night, but it was you who shone for me, standing there._

_I will always be yours. No matter where I am, I am yours._

_I hope you understand, Gerard. I'm begging. I need you to really understand._

_Frank._

I read it three times over, each pass made me more and more sure. Frank had thrown in obviously false information, but with it, he'd given me a clue. First of all, Charles didn't know that Mike survived the change. He didn't think I would have been able to do it. Excellent. The other bit of information that statement gave me was that Frank needed me to look into the letter closer, for the less obvious. 

There... that night... the first time he ran... the night he became my angel. 

I was supposed to go out to that bar. There was something there for me; something that would lead me back to my mate. There was a grin on my face and I was moving, already gathering my wallet and keys. I could see Mikey pick up the paper and read over it before turning his confused eyes to my busy form. 

"But I'm not dead."

"I know."

"You changed me. I didn't die. Frank was there."

"Exactly."

"Where are you going?"

" _THERE._ " I knew I wasn't making much sense, but it couldn't be helped. I grabbed my brother's wrist with an urgent, "C'mon!" and brought him out the door with me. 

My frenzy was short lived, though. The bar lead me to another note, asking me to talk to a certain bar tender. I waited around all day and well into the evening for the man, only to be given a business card for a bed and breakfast. It took Mikey and I two days to find the place and travel there. Frank's scent was all over the place, but he was no where to be found. 

"Gerard?" an unfamiliar voice called out to me. 

"Yes?" I answered, wary. 

"He said to keep looking. He'll try his best to leave a clue every time, but it gets harder. The man he's with becomes suspicious easily, and your Angel is trying to play along. Don't give up," the woman encouraged with a smile that was more akin to reading the tagline to a romance than reporting the urging of my kidnapped lover.

"Thank you,"  I replied, still uncertain. "Did he say where he'd gone?" 

"Just to look under the piano's lid, Gerard. I'm sorry."

"That's fine... thank you." I was still baffled.

This cat and mouse game continued throughout weeks and I was wearing thin. The first time I'd fed since losing him, I drank too much too quickly and found it almost impossible to be sated. So I took another. And another. And so on. Mikey looked at me so strangely that day. It was nothing like when I'd stocked up on blood to face a threat; I'd become brutal and half crazed. There was no end in sight. It felt as though every day without Frank had left me hungrier and hungrier. The power I was amassing was incredible, to be sure, but spending so much time in a blood-soaked haze was working against me as well. 

Some days, the blood was all I could think about. The blood and him. Mikey became a creature that moved in my periphery, guiding me and helping me find Frank, but only becoming clear in the few hours after I'd finished a massacre of a meal. 

I was becoming a monster, even by my own definitions. I didn't dare ask my brother to define the word. 

All I could do was chase smoke signals as I wrought a gruesome path along the Eastern Seaboard. 

 


	30. This Riddle of Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for this short chapter.  
> Life, you know? Super fucking busy.

Frank’s messages were becoming more vague and less frequent. They left me feeling like he was unsure that he wanted to be rescued, which make me more determined to do so. There were no more paper notes, either. It was all word of mouth and strange smells. I stayed in a room once that smelled just like Frank, but different. Muskier. I chalked it up to him restlessly jerking off in a stolen moment, which was something I was getting used to doing myself. 

 

I ignored the tendril of hurt in my stomach that recognized that Charles’s musk lingered with Frank’s.

 

There were a few times the places Frank had been in were left smelling of his blood. On those nights, the hunger was even more insatiable and the path I’d left behind me was even bloodier than usual. I was being driven mad with worry and separation. I didn’t think I could go much longer before drawing the authorities to my actions. Then I’d truly be fucked. 

 

We’d rushed through middle America for a month before ending back up in the Northeast. I was getting desperate to find my mate and Mikey was worried he’d have to do something drastic soon. I couldn’t blame him, I knew I was crazed. I knew I was acting dangerously. 

 

We’d taken to sleeping in abandoned buildings and paying for things in cash. Mikey wanted to be be able to go back to my life after all of this. I wasn’t sure I wanted to survive if I didn’t make it to Frank in time, but I allowed Mike to hold on to hope and followed his instructions for the time being. 

 

+++

 

"You're a fucking idiot!" I was awoken from a rare moment of sleep by my yelling... boyfriend? 

 

"Frank?!" My eyes shot open and I took in his figure, leaning over me, breathing heavily, with clear lines of anger across his face. Mike ran into the room behind me and spat out a string of epithets. Clearly I wasn't going crazy if my brother could see him, too. 

 

"Yes, Frank. Who else would I be? We have to _go_ , Gerard. Like now. Get up." He grabbed my arm and hauled me up to my feet with ease. With too much ease. 

 

"Wait, Frankie... what the fuck? What..."

 

That gave Frank a moment of pause. "Yeah. I know. We can talk about it while we're fucking running, dumbass," he said as he went over to the bag I'd stashed behind the stack of buoys. We'd stopped for rest in a boathouse somewhere just inside Maine, I was down to sleeping for a few hours every three or four days or so, but Mikey needed to rest every 48 hours or he would be useless. He continued talking as Mikey ran to get his backpack, too, "I found you in like, two hours. Charles will be quicker when he realizes I'm gone. And that'll be anytime now." 

 

Sleep and hunger had clouded my cognitive capacity and now the figurative sky was clearing. Mikey was joining us again and Frank was grabbing my elbow and steering me toward the back exit. 

 

Mikey’s confused eyes met mine and we shared a silent “The…fuck…?” before we allowed ourselves to be lead away. I had woken up starving, and as Frank touched me in his attempt to get us away, I felt the pangs leaving me like tension leaving muscles in waves during an exceptionally good massage. This was why I had been so ravenous, I had needed him. The calming effect that my boyfriend had on me and my baser instincts was something that was certainly not natural. That coupled with the overwhelming sense of ownership and belonging I felt for him left me with so many questions. Questions for later, I supposed. 

 

+++

 

Despite Frank’s comment that we could talk about it while we were running, he was reluctant to slow down long enough to even attempt conversation for hours. We were in upstate New York before we’d had a chance for me to ask those questions. The first of which wasn’t actually a question anymore, of course. He’d run along with Mike and me for hours, and at the same speeds as us. 

 

“You’re a vampire now, Frankie,” I said as we stopped in an older looking motel’s parking lot. I’d given Mike a handful of cash and asked him to book us two rooms, side by side. We weren’t far enough away from Charles to guarantee any kind of safety, but the fact was that Charles would be able to find me anywhere, having made me. I suspected Frank would be in a similar position, considering his new lease on life… death. Whatever.

 

Frank’s eyes shot up in a look that said, “Well, duh.” What his mouth said was, “Yeah. Apparently vampires can’t kill their makers without dying themselves, Gee. Something you never mentioned when you were bulking up to take Charles out. He turned me so I couldn’t just stake him in the middle of the night.” 

 

The implication that Frank would have access to Charles’s prone body while sleeping made my heart clench and only confirmed what my nose told me. “You slept with him.” 

Frank looked away from me. “Yeah.” 

 

I waited for an explanation or an accusation of rape, but I got none. All I got was Frank’s embarrassed face and and lines of worry and guilt crinkling around his mouth. I bit my lip and regarded the man I loved for another moment before turning around to face Mikey, exiting the building with two keycards and a cautious expression. He’d caught some of that conversation. 

 

He handed me a keycard, assuming I’d room with Frank, but I passed it over to the silent love of my life. “Here, I’m going to go feed in the connected lounge, then shower and nap a moment. You… uh… you do what you need to. C’mon Mikes.” I pulled my brother away and started walking over to the other side of the parking lot. 

 

“Gerard, wait. We need to talk,” Frank called after me, softly.

 

I didn’t answer. I knew there had to be more to the story, of course. Frank came back to find me and drag us away. He left clues that brought us closer. It’s not like I thought Frank didn’t at least care for me, but I couldn’t help but be hurt by the fact that he’d slept with another man. Someone who’d tried to kill my baby brother. Someone who’d threatened me and Frank. It didn’t compute, and I didn’t want to dwell on thoughts that ended up with the image of Frank bending over and allowing himself to be fucked by my college boyfriend. 

 

“Gee, wait…” Mike whispered.

“I know, but I can’t right now,” was all that I said in reply. 

 

I needed a drink.


	31. Shed Your Yellow, Take My Hand

There was a pretty young thing in my arms. He was simpering and moaning and grinding against my leg as I pulled more and more blood from the wound I’d made in his neck. The shock of relief that hit me was immediate and the urge to go farther; to pull his pants down and spin him to face the wall and fuck into him as I fed was intense. And it would serve Frank right, wouldn’t it?

My hand wandered down to his waist and then to his crotch, grazing the obvious bulge and he shuddered. He shuddered and whispered “Please, please, please,” into my ear. For a moment, I wanted to. I began to tug on the fabric of his pants but then I felt something. A tug in the pit of my stomach. This was wrong. So wrong that it was instantly abhorrent. Disgusting.

I raised my hand and pushed his shoulder harder against the brick and dug the hole in his throat deeper with my fangs, focusing on the way his blood felt running down my throat hotly.

“This isn’t you, baby…” I heard Frank’s voice from right behind me. He put a hand on my shoulder and it only spurred me on. I drank deeply and the land that was resting on my meal’s throat tightened. I heard a snap, but kept drinking anyway until the last, vaguely cooled, drop of blood was gone.

“Apparently, you don’t know me as well as you thought, then. Seems like you and I have that in common. I don’t know you at all, I guess,” I said as I turned to face him. He was hurt by my words, I could tell. As much as I wanted to be glad of that, I wasn’t. I was confused and sad and angry.

“Gerard,” he started, sadly. “I had to let him. It was clear it was what he wanted from me… I think just to spite you when you found me. He wanted to hurt you. But I knew if I eventually played along… played like that was something I wanted, too… he’d give me a little leeway. A little room. Room I would need to run.” I looked up to see my love with tears in his eyes. Crying for vampires wasn’t something easily done. He was upset. Heartbroken.

It just made me feel colder. He was hurting us both.

“After the first month,” he continued, “I started to let him touch me without flinching away. About a week after that, I let him fuck me. It made me so nauseated that when he was done I excused myself to the bathroom and vomited. I’m so sorry Gee… I love you so much. But it worked, you know? I got away. I got back to you, where I belong.”

“Did you come?” I asked bluntly.

“You know I did.” He was right. I could smell it in the places he had been. “Felt like my insides were coming out every time. Painful… not pleasurable. Just… I don’t think I’m meant to be with anyone else. The thought makes me sick. The act makes me sicker. Makes me feel like I’m dying.”

He sounded so lost. So hurt. I knew what he meant about the thought of being with anyone else being nausea inducing. Just then when I had thought about fucking my dinner. It was so disgusting. But he went through with it, to get a chance to come to me. I wanted to forgive him. I really did.

“I want to be okay with what happened, Frank. I want to feel better about it. But you stink of him and it makes me so mad. All I can think of is him on you and in you and it isn’t right. It’s just pure rage in here when I think of it.” I tapped my temple.

“I know,” he said and stepped closer. “I want it gone. I want his scent gone. It makes me ill and sad and I feel like clawing my skin off. Please, Gee. Make it go away.”

“It’s inside of you, Frankie. Not just on you like last time. It’s… he’s been inside of you. Where I haven’t been. It’s not that easy.” I hung my head and tried to quell the sickness rolling in my gut.

“Then be inside of me, Gerard. I’m not human anymore. You’re not going to kill me.” My head shot up as I realized that he was right. He stepped closer still and wrapped his arms around my neck, rubbing himself against me everywhere he could, masking the smell of Charles with mine.

He’d showered recently, so I could tell it was working. I was beginning to calm down a little now that my mate smelled more like me. I buried my nose in the crook of his neck and kissed him there, at his pulse point, and inhaled his scent.

There it was again. That stink of someone else. I growled low in my chest.

“I know, baby. I know. Just fuck me, Gerard. I want to smell like you. I want to belong to you again.” He ground his hips against mine. “Please, baby. Fuck me.”

“Your room key?” I whispered against his throat.

“Right front pocket,” he replied.

With that I lifted him up and ran behind the buildings, ducking along alleyways and only slowing when I reached the hotel.

I put my boyfriend down and took his hand, leading him to his room, calmly and slowly, all the while shaking inside. I was finally going to make him mine. Inside and out he would carry my scent. No one would be able to deny that he was my mate ever again.

Once we were inside his room, I took action pressing my mouth against his and reaching for the button on his jeans.

“God, yes,” he mumbled against my mouth when I had a hand down his boxers, stoking him to full hardness. In moments, I had his clothes and mine off, and I was laying him against the bed, my mouth on his and my fingers playing along his ribs. I was trying to ignore the smell that was even more intense with Frankie’s clothes removed, but it wasn’t working very well. I had to do something.

Sliding down his body, I took Frank’s cock into my mouth and sucked deeply, filling my senses with the sharp scent of his arousal and the taste of his skin. When I pulled I looked up at the writhing mess that was my lover and grinned before sinking my teeth into his thigh and gathering up a mouthful of his blood. He tasted different… almost sweeter. Like dark chocolate and berries. It was divine. His taste made my eyes roll back into my head and I moaned against him. All I could hear from above me was, “Yes… yes Gerard. This… This!”   
With my blood-slicked lips I went down on him again. The sensations were heightened by the flavor of my mate’s blood with his precome and the feeling of his hands in my hair, pulling hard. I could have sucked his cock happily for hours, but I had a job to do. A mate to properly claim.

I pulled off again with a wet sound and ran my fingers through the blood coming from his now-closing wound. Using this as lube, I traced the rim of his hole slowly, watching his face as he squirmed and tried to bear down on them.

“Desperate for something inside you, my love?” I asked, and he nodded vigorously.

“Please, baby. Something…” he said with his eyes hooded. “Please. I’m yours.”

I pressed two digits in at once and my mate howled and pushed down on them. I spent a few minutes stretching him out and working a third finger in. His blood began to dry in the air so I lifted his legs and spat on his ass crack, working my saliva in and out with his blood and enjoying the way Charles’ scent seemed to fade with my movements, chased away by the smell of me and him. Of us.

I tore open the flesh of my left wrist and let my own blood mingle with the mess on his body, pushing some in and blending over to lick it up and out of my mate. Frank was shivering and cursing, his eyes open and watching me, heated and dark. He was ready.

“Gonna fuck you now, baby. Gonna make it so good for you,” I said as I slicked my own cock up with the blood. He moaned at the site and nodded, lifting his legs to my shoulders.

“Hard, Gee. Make it deep and hard, please. I want it so bad.”

I took hold of his hips to steady him and pressed into him slowly. The sounds that poured from him were like music, no… they were more like prayer. Like hymns. I had to pause a moment to catch my breath so that I wouldn’t come too soon. I had promised to make this good for him, too.

“God, Gerard. Move… please” Frank groaned and pressed down onto me. “Need you.”

I nodded, unable to speak and pulled out, thrusting forward again hard. Frank shouted my name in affirmations; I did it again. And again. Each time I pushed harder and faster. Frankie was louder now, filling my ears with his sweet voice.

This was bliss. Every nerve in my felt electric, but I couldn’t help but think something was missing.

I pulled out of my lover and lifted him by his waist. “On your knees,” I said as I turned him around. “Hands on the top on the headboard. Come on.”

He hurried to shift into that position for me and I kneeled behind him, spreading his legs farther and lining up again after bleeding on my hand again and pumping my cock a few times. I pushed into him again and worked until I found the angle that made him scream and shake.

I pumped into him hard and fast and I could feel the tightening that meant I was coming soon. I was going to finish inside my mate and knowing he would reek of me for the rest of his life pushed me to go even faster. I wound my left arm around his hips under his cock, pressing my fingers upwards behind his balls, putting more pressure on his prostate as I bit the crook of his neck and shoulder. My mate shrieked, “Yes!”

Lifting my head for a moment, I placed my right wrist in front of his face. “Bite me, love. Drink me as we come.”

He did as I ordered and the feeling sent me over the edge. I fucking into him hard and fast, my blood feeding him and his feeding me as I released into his body. Our combined scents filled the room and I knew he’d come too.

We both continued to move and drink as we rode out our orgasms. Eventually, we were spent and satiated, and collapsed, tangled in one another on the sheets.

Some time later, I wasn’t sure if it was hours or minutes or seconds; I gained enough presence of mind to roll over on top of Frank and take a deep breath.

It was all me and him. No trace of anyone else. I could breathe easy again.

Frank’s hand came up and carded through my hair. “I feel so perfect now. Like everything is exactly as it should be. Is this what you meant when you called me your mate? Like… are vampires like supernatural creatures that mate for life?”

“I guess. I don’t know really. Never had anyone to ask. But I don’t think there’ll ever be anyone else for me, Frank. Even when you were human… it was always different with you,” I said to him softly and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I love you. I’m yours. Please don’t ever leave me again.”

“I promise Gerard. I love you, too. I’m yours and nothing is ever going to change it.”

“Nothing.”


End file.
